


The Apple of my Eye

by Destinyawakened, SeaOfEmpathy, You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am



Category: Adams æbler | Adam's Apples (2005), Hannibal (TV), The Path (TV)
Genre: #EatTheRare, Blow Jobs, Crushes, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Priest Kink, Religion, a long slow burn, doting, hannigram AU, religious speak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 50,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaOfEmpathy/pseuds/SeaOfEmpathy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am/pseuds/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan Fjeldsted is a Danish priest in American on a mission from God to share the story of his faith with the lost. Cal Roberts is the east coast leader in a Spiritual movement called Meyerism. Destiny causes their paths to cross in a small tea room, and they discover that two men from vastly different walks of life have more in common than either could have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) No beta. Edited by us the best we can.  
> 2) Join us on tumblr! [seaofempathy](http://seaofempathy.tumblr.com)

 

It had been eleven years since Father Ivan Fjeldsted had experienced his miracle. Now the man had his bags packed and was on his way to America on a missionary trip to spread his faith to lost souls. “We cannot hide our light under a bushel basket,” he told his parishioners, explaining his decision.

Several months prior, Ivan had found himself in bed, tossing and turning, coated in sweat. In a fever dream - a vision - he ran through a dense forest and fell into a deep hole. The priest looked up and saw a bright light shining down, and a hand reaching out to him. He stretched, grasping for it, and upon climbing out, discovered his rescuer to be his doppelgänger - himself.  _ ‘You must go to New York, Ivan,’  _ a booming voice rang in his head.  _ ‘Bring My word to them. Show them your faith. Tell them of your miracle.’ _ Gathering what little money he had in his humble means, the priest made arrangements to travel to New York. 

“Christoffer, you be a good boy for Father Adam, you understand?” Ivan tucked his son’s sweater into the wheelchair and kissed his cheek. The lad was now twenty-one, but still required constant care due to his paralysis. He turned to Adam, a former lost sheep, now a priest himself. “I will miss everyone so much. But I must do as God has called me.” The younger man nodded and wheeled Ivan’s son back inside the rectory.

Ivan had been in New York a couple of weeks when he wandered into a small English tea room in just outside the city. The restaurant was packed, but he managed to get a small table near the window, and ordered some tea cakes and a pot of tea. 

Cal Roberts, a short-haired man, buzz cut and clean kept, walked in looking for a table. He was told there was no room. Spotting the priest alone, Cal motioned to him and went to the man, offering his hand in greeting. “Cal Roberts. Mind if I sit?”

Ivan nodded, shaking his hand and waving at the open seat with a broad, friendly smile. In a thick Danish accent, he greeted the younger man. “Father Ivan Fjeldsted. Call me Ivan. Please, sit. I would appreciate some company. I was just about to have some tea and food. I’m happy to share with you, of course.”

The hostess brought Ivan’s order - a pot of tea and five tea cakes. “I’m sorry miss, I thought there were to be six? Can you please bring one more?”    
  
“There are only five in the serving. It says so on the menu,” the server said, quietly.

“But you can see I have a guest now, and we’d like to share, please. How am I to share five? Surely you see that is absurd.”

The young lady shook her head and went to fetch an additional cake.

Ivan sighed and looked across the table at Cal. “You know, Jesus multiplied five loaves of bread and two fishes into enough to feed five thousand people. I can only think this young woman must believe the same would happen with these tea cakes. How else could one account for this oversight? But God forgives all, as should we." He took a sip of tea. "I have an apple, I can share it too? I found an organic farmer's market nearby. Thank God. Not as good as mine at home, but tasty enough."

Cal listened, not a believer in Christ, per say, but he wouldn’t fault those who did. He smiled warmly. "That would be kind of you. At the compound we have a few orchards. You should see them. Perfect fruit this time of year." 

Ivan pulled a small pocket knife from his shorts and carefully cut the green apple, handing one half to Cal. "Compound? What sort of compound?" 

Cal nodded his thanks, and took the apple half. "For Meyerists. I live there. It's a community of people."

"That's interesting. But tell me something, my new friend: Would you, with a straight face, ever offer a man a third of a cup of tea? I don't think so, but be honest with me." He took a bite of apple, staring thoughtfully at Cal.

"A third cup? If the man wanted and I had tea left in my pot, yes." Cal  answered truthfully, glad to just have someone who wanted to drink tea with him. "Would you like more?" 

"Yes, I wouldn't mind. But what I mean is, would you pour yourself an entire full cup but then only give your guest a drop? You strike me as a reasonable man." Ivan shook his head. "I know. I'm fixated. But anyway. A community of people, you say? And what do you do there?"

“Ah, I see. I would give to you first before myself. It's how we are," Cal explained, biting into the apple piece slowly, licking his lip. "I am in charge there. I watch over the whole east coast."

“The whole east coast? You are so young, but obviously very important to have such responsibility. I take it this is a religious organization? Are you a man of faith, Cal?" Ivan smiled easily before taking a bite of his own apple half. The hostess brought the men the extra tea cake, and Ivan simply looked at her and nodded.

"In a sense. We do not believe what you believe, entirely. We believe in the Light, and the Ladder that leads us into the Light," Cal offered, sure the other man wouldn't want to hear about it since he's a man of faith himself. Cal poured more tea for them both, equally.

"Thank you," Ivan nodded, pleased at how evenly Cal poured the tea. "I don't think specifics matter so much. Believing in the goodness of mankind, that is what I value. Your light and my light may not be so different. I'm curious though, is this ladder you refer to literal, or metaphorical?"

Cal was always happy to hear from people who didn't want to argue over specifics. He smiled and took another bite, leaning back in his chair. "Both, if that makes sense. We use The Ladder and it's rungs as a means of stepping stones toward enlightenment, toward the Garden or in your case, heaven. There is an actual Ladder in Peru. Our founder Steve Meyers found it; he's been the only one able to climb it without getting burned."

Ivan examined the younger man. "Well, any path to enlightenment can only be a noble one, surely one honored by whatever higher power you ascribe to. Steven Meyer, you say- he’s in Peru? He must be a very holy man to not be burned by your ladder. This sounds miraculous." The priest popped the last bite of apple in his mouth, wiping a bit of juice from his lips.

“He is the best man I know. There were others with him the day he climbed the ladder; one tried and she burned her hands. She has the scars to prove it," Cal explained, eating the last bit of the apple, admittedly good. After swallowing, he went on. "He is in Peru recovering from cancer. He wasn't said to have been able to make it, but the Light thought differently. The Light  _ saved _ him."

Ivan's face lit up; sharp teeth, slightly broken nose, and what appeared to be a poorly healed wound near his eye, all seem to fade in the joy he exuded. "You may be interested to know, I experienced a similar miracle. You see! I knew it!" The man leaned forward enthusiastically. "Let me tell you, Cal. I too had cancer. Do you see my face, this scar? I had a brain tumor. Weeks to live. I was shot, right in the head. Of course it was an accident, but then again, was it? No, God saw fit to heal me by His grace! Shot the tumor right out of my skull. And I'm alive and well today, as you can see." He slapped his bare knee, and leaned back with a proud smile. "I want to see your compound, my new friend."

Cal licked his lips and sipped his tea, listening to Ivan’s story. Though it sounded fabled, Cal knew a lot of things could seem that way, such as Meyerism. He knew better. Miracles do happen; Steve was the walking proof, and now so was Ivan.   
  
Cal may have lost a little faith a few months ago, but the recent events have led him to see that things were looking up; the Light was upon them. He could see it in Steve, in Sarah, and now, in Ivan. "I would love to show you."

Ivan sipped more of his tea. "I'm eager for that. You know, nothing happens by chance. There's a purpose in all these seemingly random things that we endure, and at the time they may not make sense. It may even appear as though we are being tested. Perhaps we are. But in the end, there's a reason, and I believe we are better for it. I don't think it's an accident you stumbled upon me today, dear boy." Ivan nodded sagely, setting his empty cup down and beaming at Cal. "I think it was providence."

"Destiny," Cal offered back, agreeing. He didn't used to think as much, considering the shit he'd been dealt early on in life, but lately everything just seemed to be falling into place, and even if he still had his own demons to face down, and things to speak for, it wasn't as bad as it could be.   
Cal finished his tea, the pot now empty, and he let the hostess here take it away. He'd never gone to a tea room before, but something today told him he  _ had _ to.

"Yes, destiny,” Ivan replied. “You know, I’m here to lead the lost back to faith. I'm from Denmark. I have a parish there, but God called me here to work. For how long, I don’t know. It's up to Him. Perhaps you and your group are part of His plan? I’ve always believed I have more to learn. It's not just my role to teach, but also be taught; it's important to stay humble. I see wisdom in you, and I think we can benefit each other." Ivan handed the hostess some bills, and turned his focus back to Cal.

"We enlighten ourselves by continually learning, be it education, the path to the Light, or God as you see it," Cal offered, and stood, gathering his modest, lightweight jacket. "I'd love to show you the compound; our community is wholesome and caring. They will welcome you with open arms, especially if you tell them your story." Cal loved miracle stories; they always suckered people in. 

The taller man smoothed down his simple black sweater vest as he stood. "I'd love to give my testimony, and meet your people. We are all children of God, of the light. As I see it, they are the same. And if you have an apple orchard, well, all the better!" Ivan grinned and extended his hand to allow Cal to lead the way out. 

Cal often used  _ God _ as a term people would identify with more than  _ The Light _ . It grasped them tight and reeled them in; of course it all depended, too. Some people wanted nothing to do with God. Cal was good about sniffing each person out carefully to provide them an experience they wouldn’t forget, and have them crawling back.   
  
"We have a great many trees, not just apple," Cal insisted and walked out, holding the door for Ivan. "Do you have a car? Mine's just down the street.”

"I love fruit of all kinds, particularly apples, but I've a newfound fondness for oranges. We don't have them where I'm from as much, but you have lovely ones here.” Ivan matched Cal’s strides as they made their way down the sidewalk. “No, I have no car. I ride a bike everywhere or take the bus. Does a body good, fresh air and exercise, and keeps pollution down. I believe in taking care of our earth." The older man unlocked his bike from a nearby post; he had a small basket on the back with a few vegetables and fruits in it. "I suppose I could follow you, unless you have room in your car for a bike? The front wheel can pop off, if need be."

"I have a rack," Cal said, walking with Ivan down the street a ways, not far, where his car is parked, a blue Prius.   
  
"There." Cal gestured to the car. He helped Ivan secure the bike to the vehicle, then jogged lightly around to the other side, sliding into the driver's side. The priest smiled with great satisfaction at how organized the young man was. "You are well prepared! Thank you!" He folded his long legs into the passenger side, his knees pressed against the dash. "This is cozy!" he remarked.

“It's a little small, but a good car, a hybrid. Better for the environment than other cars," Cal explained, starting the car up, which was quiet, almost unheard. He checked behind him, and then pulled out into the street, heading back toward the compound. Ivan glanced over at the young man. 

"Conscientious of you. Very good. So tell me Cal, about this ladder, these rungs as you call them; how do your people climb the ladder? Is there a spiritual way they attain this enlightenment? Do you pray, or do good works? Do you have a path or a set of, say, laws you follow? I'm sure there's much to it, and I don't expect you can explain it all to me now. Forgive me for being so inquisitive." Ivan rubbed his hands over his thighs and looked all around as they drove, finally returning his focus to Cal.

"We have a book, it's guide for us. We have different rungs of the ladder, it's spiritual. Each rung is a new step closer to achieving enlightenment, going to the Garden when our days are over here. I have a lot of reading material at the compound, if you're interested," Cal offered, rolling to a stop at a traffic light. Once green again, he pressed forward.

"I'm very interested, yes!" Ivan grinned enthusiastically. "Were you born into this? Were you raised in this religion, Cal? I'm always curious to hear how people come to their beliefs. I feel everyone has to go through trials to truly know the strength of their faith. Unless my instinct is wrong, you seem like a man of true conviction.” 

Cal started off down the road toward the compound, a nice country setting with autumn leaves starting to fall over the road in crisp yellows, reds, and browns. "I was brought into it when I was five. My father left my mother and we joined. I've been in it since, partially raised by the founder, Steve, as my father went back to my mother later on."

“And now, you lead the entire east coast. Very remarkable. You’ve probably been through much adversity to get to this position, yes?”     
  
Cal glanced over at the older man with a slight smile. "I'm at the current highest rung of the ladder, just under Steve. Each rung has it's tests that you have to complete perfectly to move on." 

The priest admired the foliage and countryside, placing a hand on the younger man’s arm as he marveled, briefly distracted from the conversation. "Cal, this reminds me so much of my home! I should show you photos. My parish in Denmark is in the countryside. We have rolling hills like this. These trees; it looks so much like this. I feel like I'm home again," Ivan wiped a tear from his eye, getting a bit sentimental. "I've been gone a few weeks now, and have been quite homesick. Forgive me. It's the first time I've been away from home, really. But God called me here for a reason." He squeezed Cal's arm before releasing it and smiling warmly.

"Autumn here is the most beautiful time of year," Cal offers; he quite enjoys this time of year as well, all the changing colors and the warm but crisp air and wind chill.

"Perhaps you've been brought here to learn from us. To be enlightened.” 

Ivan had, at one time, been a simple man; his brain tumor had prevented him from seeing clearly, and he'd suffered many delusions. Some of it had been caused by the cancer, some as a result of psychological and physical trauma in his youth and young adult life. He still struggled with many things; God continued to test him, and he now realized it was simply to make him stronger, not break him down. But since his miracle, he’d been given wisdom, insight, and clarity he'd never had before. He attributed this to God's will for his life. He'd been given a second chance, and he intended to use it, to fulfill his purpose.    
  
In this young man, he sensed there was more than met the eye, and truly felt God had led him to this encounter. Perhaps he could learn from him, but he also wondered if God wasn't leading him to help as well. His heart was open and hopeful.    
  
"Indeed," The priest said with a small, mysterious smile. Cal took the short answer as reason to let the other man enjoy the scenery as they drove. Soon they came up on the gated community, and he was let in. He drove slowly around the paved streets to his bungalow, where he parked.   
  
"This is where I live. We run on solar power and we collect rainwater to supplement. Very eco-friendly. We grow our own veggies and fruit. We're mostly vegetarian here; some are vegans." 

Ivan nodded. "I eat meat. Where I live, it's just part of our way of life. But I must admit, I admire this standard of living." He looked around at the smiling faces of the people waving at Cal in greeting. "Everyone looks quite happy. This is beautiful. Idyllic!" When they reached Cal's humble home, Ivan looked at him and smiled, and then got out of the car, a little anxious to stretch his legs. He inhaled deeply. "This feels so far away from the busy town we were in! So serene. Cal, this is heaven," the older man exclaimed.

"Almost," Cal countered, with a smile, and got out of the car. He took Ivan's bike off the rack, in case he wanted it.   
  
"It's homely here, not everyone from the community lives here, but those who do help to make it   thrive," Cal explained. Ivan took his bike and attempted to lean it against a post outside Cal's house. Several unsuccessful attempts drove him into a fit of muttering to himself about the bicycle being rude, as it kept falling over, until finally it stayed upright. He huffed a little, kicking his sandal in the grass towards one tire, and then shook his head and followed Cal. "We could lean it on the house if you like?" Cal offered, a cant to his head as he unlocked his front door to a house that wasn't really so much homely as it was professional. "This is where I live when I'm in town."

"It's fine now, but thank you," Ivan said, casting a side glance at it, as if warning the inanimate object to remain upright. He stepped in the doorway, ducking his head a bit. The first thing he noticed walking in was the large wooden engraving of an eye with rays splaying out around it, over the fireplace. Ivan couldn't help but walk right over to it. "Cal, what  _ is _ this?" he asked in wonder.

"That is the Eye. It's all-seeing. A reminder we are never really alone," Cal said with a smile. He shut the door behind them and set kettle of tea on. "Everyone in the Movement has some form of the Eye in their house."

Ivan walked through the small living room and into the kitchen. "You're right. We're never alone." The older man's amber gaze settled over Cal, and he watched him take cups from the cabinet and set the kettle to boil.

"There's a life force around us, just depends on what you believe in," Cal said, with a crisp grin toward the priest. "Herbal or black?"

"Herbal is fine, thank you. Well, you know what I believe. It's what  _ you _ believe that interests me," he quipped.

Cal put loose tea into two tea strainers and then set them into the mugs, pouring the boiling water. "I believe in The Light, in Universal Truth." Cal smiled over at the priest and brought the mugs to a small table - his desk actually - grabbing a book from the drawer. He slid it over to Ivan. "This is the easiest to understand. It's a children's book, but I love it. Nothing simpler."

Ivan sat at the table and took the book, examining its cover with great interest. He flipped it open and began reading. "These pictures are great. Often the best way to communicate is through art. I can appreciate that." He crossed his legs. " _ What he'd done to the soldiers. _ So, this man was in the military." Ivan hummed to himself. "This ladder reminds me of Jacob's Ladder, you know. Are you aware of that story, Cal?" Ivan didn't look up, but continued reading. "Of course, if this lady you spoke of has scars on her hands, and this ladder is in Peru as you say...some say Jacob's ladder was metaphorical, so there  _ are _ differences. But, I can't help but draw a comparison."

"In every religion there are many stories that parallel others. They are tales of learning," Cal explained. He knew the stories; he liked to consider himself well rounded in the arts and in scripture and literature, anything to make him more identifiable to others, approachable. "They all lead back to one truth though, don't they? A higher being, a higher calling."

The priest's eyes flickered up from the book and over at Cal. "Yes. Tell me Cal, has Steve ever come here to visit? I’m full of curiosity about this person now. This book is compelling." He set it down on the table and picked up a spoon to stir his tea.

“Not recently. Once he's fully recovered, I am sure he'll make his appearance. He's fascinating," Cal said assuredly. He loved Steve like a father, the way he should have loved his own.   


"I'll tell him about you when he phones next."

Ivan picked up the mug, blowing the steam a bit before sipping. He hummed appreciatively. “Very tasty.” He focused his attention back on the young man sitting at the table across from him. “You mentioned that people go through various tests to progress through the organization. What sort of tests?”

“Each rung has their own set of tests, and we don’t speak about them until you get there. We don’t want preparing being done, as whim-based judgement is better. Instinct and learning to give into the Light to guide you,” Cal explained, with a wave of his hand at the end. “They start off fairly simple though, but get progressively harder.” 

Ivan nodded. “The object is to see how someone reacts under pressure, in the heat of the moment. I can see how that would reveal a lot about a man. Expose vulnerability, perhaps teach him things about himself, things that are hidden, disguised with the mask we present to the world. Do you administer any of them yourself?” 

Cal smiled; the other man understood perfectly. He scooted forward just a little, dipping down to pull an orange from his basket of freshly picked ones, and tossed one to the priest. "I do. It depends. Every rung has someone in charge of giving each lesson. A mentor. Sometimes it requires travel to Peru. I can't tell you why, that would be giving away secrets," Cal teased, just a little.

Ivan perked up at the mention of Peru, and caught the orange with a grin. He began peeling it with long, nimble fingers. “I must confess, you make it sound very appealing. Nothing you’ve said thus far conflicts with my beliefs in any grave way. Of course, I’m one of the more free-thinking members of the cloth. I simply think God - or our higher power, if you will - is more concerned with exactly what we’ve just spoken about. The deeper matters of the heart, the things we conceal from others, rather than dogma. I think that’s why your all-seeing Eye resonates with me. In fact, many of your principles seem to be ringing true for me, Cal,” the older man murmured, pulling off a segment of orange and placing it in his mouth thoughtfully. 

"Steve believes that The Light is merely another way to see things, rather than muddle it down with all the nonsense the churches have added to it over the years," Cal said, opening his own orange, slowly, making sure to get off every last bit of rind. "As you said, we should be concerned with ourselves and the world around us, rather than if we are praising correctly or enough."

Ivan listened to all Cal had to say, enjoying the sweet juiciness of the orange. He furrowed his brow, nodding in agreement. “Oh, yes.  _ ‘Faith without works is dead. _ ’ The frills and pageantry, the regulations, they are meaningless to me. I’m not a showy person. I do love structure; I think it’s needed, some rules to provide the framework for learning. But, as to the matter of the right or wrong ways to worship and teach, people often get lost in the details, and lose sight of what’s important. These churches become isolated, trapped in a bubble. In a way, this is one reason I’m glad I left Denmark to come here. I think every leader of God, or man of faith that is charged with the responsibility of guiding people, should move out of his comfort zone and learn from other points of view. See the world.” 

Granted, Meyerism had some very highly regulated rules, some that Cal didn't really think were necessary, but he often kept those thoughts to himself. Without the rules, people would falter. Then again, Cal was great at breaking them himself with his own vices. "Structures can easily become shackles if they are bound too tightly," Cal agreed, breaking apart his own piece of fruit and then ate one slice, slipping it past his lips. "If they are not tight enough, you'll wiggle free completely and lose sight of yourself." He ate another and swallowed, licking his bottom lip. "I studied all kind of things, even art, just to know the world, the people in it, to relate to everyone. I have no love of art though beyond what you see in my home."

Ivan couldn't help but stare as the younger man ate the fruit. He looked down quickly, catching himself. “I can't say I know much about art, aside from our iconography and what I learned in school. But The Eye is certainly striking.” 

“The Eye is all I really need,” Cal offered, shaking his head. “But I schooled myself. It’s important to know what people hold dear, what they place above even themselves.”

“My son is probably the most important thing to me, next to my faith,” Ivan said, after eating his last bit of orange. “He’s an adult, but paralyzed, completely dependant. Life has not been easy, and I haven’t always been honest with myself about it, but I am now, and it’s given me strength,” he admitted, wiping his hands with a napkin on the table and taking another sip of tea. 

Cal paused, swallowing his piece of orange and then shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry to hear. Where is your son now? With his…mother?” He cocked a brow toward Ivan, curiously.

The priest shook his head. “His mother died giving birth to him. Christoffer is in Denmark with one of the Fathers and a nurse. They are caring for him while I am away. He’s twenty-one now,” he paused and looked over at Cal. “I’ve never remarried. We are allowed, but I’ve not been...I’ve been....busy,” he sighed. “I’ve focused on rehabilitating young men from the local prison for the past fifteen years or so. They come to us, and we offer them a place to stay, a job, and a skill to learn. We lead them to faith, show them how to better themselves. I’ve seen many a lost soul redeemed in this way. It’s been effective and immensely rewarding.”

“That’s very giving of you. Does your son miss you?” Cal asked, not aware of the whole story with Ivan’s son, but he was interested, as stories like this were ones he thrived on to bring people into the movement.

“My son has cerebral palsy. He misses me, yes. I explained to him before I left where I was going and what I was doing. I believe in his way, he understands. He has a very loving, unselfish heart,” Ivan paused. “Truth be told, it’s likely I miss him more than he misses me. He’s a young man now; he has things to occupy his time there. And he is well-loved and cared for. My friend Father Adam is quite good with him, as is his nurse.” 

“Leaving a child behind is difficult. You believe your calling is higher than him? That he’ll understand someday?” Cal asked, curious to get the insights of Ivan’s mind. It was unlike anyone else he’d ever met, aside from Steve.

“I haven’t left him permanently. This is a missionary trip. I’m here for a short time. Perhaps three months, six months. It’s not long. If God should ask me to stay longer, I’ll bring him here. For now, I left him there, where his care is best. He knows everyone. And coming here, I didn’t know what to expect. So yes, for now, I don’t foresee this will impact him greatly. God was very clear in my vision, and His instruction on exactly what I am to do and where I was to go. I am but His humble servant meant to obey Him.” Ivan stirred his tea a bit more and met Cal’s gaze confidently. Ivan was used to being challenged, but had no difficulty with it, and was calm and pleasant. 

“What was the vision you had exactly?” Cal asked, curious now, as visions were things that came to only certain people, those who were meant to bring greatness to humankind. He’d seen it in Sarah, and she was now fully on her way to becoming a great leader for the Movement.

Ivan pensively ran a long fingertip around the rim of his mug, and worried his bottom lip with sharp teeth before answering. “I was walking in a forest at night and fell into a deep hole. I felt a sense of hopelessness, despair. All was lost. Fog rolled over the surface above me, and as I began to accept my fate, a blinding light pierced through, and a hand reached towards me. I stretched up to grasp it, and was pulled out. As I rose to the surface and gazed upon my rescuer, I faced myself. A voice spoke from the heavens, telling me to come to New York. It told me to share the story of my miracle with people here, that I was needed. My purpose was to be found here,” the priest concluded, raising his amber gaze to meet Cal’s meaningfully.

Cal sat back and sipped his tea, listening contemplatively. Everyone had visions differently, but he never doubted they all came from one source, be it God or the Light. “To share your story  _ here _ . So many will find you truly blessed, Ivan. Your story is amazing.” He’d meant it when he told Ivan he wanted him to share it with his community.

“If they believe in the Ladder, the Light, Steve's experience in Peru, then your people are open to the existence of miracles. That is a battle already won. Preaching to the choir as it were.” Ivan leaned forward, focusing his honey eyes on Cal. “What I am really interested in though, is reaching the ones who doubt, who have no faith, who question everything. For me, that is my motivation. Tell me you don't believe. Tell me it's impossible. Give me that difficulty. I've faced the hardest men, and seen them brought to tears when they see the truth. “ He sat back, looking down and shaking his head, picking some crumbs off his black shorts. “And it's not for me that I want to see this. I have nothing to gain. I know where my soul goes, either way.”  

“You have everything to gain in seeing someone else find their faith when all else has failed,” Cal casually argued, head tilted just so, hands wrapped around his mug. “Our 0s and 1s, we are never sure if they will stay long, most of them get overwhelmed, or they simply stop believing, because their proof doesn’t exist for them. Stories like yours might change a few minds in those groups. If you’d like to sermon a few of them one day…”

Ivan brightened. “I would love to. If you think it might encourage some on the edge or doubting, yes absolutely. It's such a tenuous place to be, when they are right at that cusp between light and dark. I have been there, certain that I was cursed, that God had turned his back on me. But once you have that faith, the trials that come to break you down in the end, only make you  _ stronger _ . At least that's what I believe. Just like Job.” He smiled slightly, looking at the kettle on the stove with little subtlety, hoping Cal might pour him some more water.

Thankfully, Cal was good at body language, watched Ivan’s sight, and then stood, taking both mugs to the counter to refill and steep. “That’s true. A talk with Eddie might be good, too. He’s gone through a huge change in the last year. Lost his faith completely, his wife, his kids… He needs  _ something _ .”

“Eddie?  Poor man. His whole family. What happened? Did they die?” A look of concern clouded the priest’s face. 

“No. He started to question his faith after a 6R trip to Peru. His wife eventually found out and they split. She has the kids. She couldn’t stand to have a husband who didn’t believe,” Cal explained, bringing over the hot cups of tea, and setting Ivan’s down in front of him on the table. “Eddie has faith, but he saw something in Peru that shook him. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Ivan wrapped his large hands around the ceramic, warming them. “I assume you’ve tried to ask him what he saw. Do you have a good rapport with this young man?”

“Not really,” Cal admitted, taking his seat again, thoughtful as he pulled the chair forward. “Not anymore.”

Ivan hummed. “Would it be too forward to ask what happened?” Ivan pulled the steeping tea strainer out, stirring the hot liquid carefully. 

Cal shifted in his seat, and then blew on his steaming mug. “Not at all. I knew Eddie was falling away from the movement, his belief was faltering. I didn’t know  _ why _ at the time, so I took it on myself to reel him back. Tried to, anyway. Everything I did only seemed to push him further away.”

Ivan sipped at his beverage, now cooled enough to drink. He made a happy appreciative sound and smiled, nodding at the cup. “You can't blame yourself for that. It sounds like his own internal struggle has taken over logic. That happens. Perhaps you're too close to the situation for him. An outsider might have better luck. I'd be happy to try. What he saw in Peru is, as you say, probably the key to the doubts plaguing him, and if it's serious enough that he's lost his family over this, he's likely desperate by now.” 

Cal nodded slowly, shifting his jaw a little as his eyes scanned his cup of steaming liquid. “You’re probably right,” he agreed with a sigh, contemplating. 

Ivan looked back up at Cal. “I'm staying in town right now, near where we drove in from. Do you know of any place closer to the compound I might relocate, while I work with you?”  

“There’s plenty of room in the compound if you’d like to stay here. You can observe our way of life from sun up til sun down.”

The Dane took a long, satisfying swallow of tea and smiled. “I’d like that. Very hospitable of you, thank you. I can ride back into town and get my things, and take the bus back here tomorrow. Would that be alright?” 

“If that’s what you’d like to do, Ivan,” Cal said. The priest was quite different, strange even, but Cal found that he was growing to like him, and how unconventional he was for man of God.

Ivan finished his tea and got up from the table. “Yes, it is. I’m an early riser, so I believe I’ll head back now and get a jump on tomorrow. I’m eager to walk around, meet everyone, see your orchard. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning then, Cal.” The priest grinned his crooked smile at the younger man, extending his hand to shake it.

“Very well, it’s a been a pleasure, Ivan,” Cal said, taking the man’s hand for a firm shake, and this time it almost felt like a spark lit through Cal, which he firmly ignored, and he showed Ivan out. “Bike safely back. Do you remember the way?”

Ivan's palm pressed firmly against the younger man's, and he swallowed slowly, glancing over at him. “Yes, I'm good with directions. I made note, and it's not far. Thank you again, for the tea, and your company.” He ducked out of the doorway, picking up his bike, and rode off with a friendly wave.  

Cal finished off his day in much the same way as he always had, though now he had Ivan on his mind, and hoped he would make it back to where he was staying. Cal should have offered to drive him back, or at least have gotten a phone number just in case. Cal hardly worried too often about many, aware that most could take care of themselves, but Father Ivan struck an odd chord in Cal that rang true. Like Steve, Cal had a feeling he’d be learning quite a bit from the man, as much spiritual as personal.


	2. Chapter 2

Ivan lay in bed that night, at last alone with his thoughts, pondering the remarkable man he'd met that day. At least a decade his junior, and yet so self-possessed and confident; at least that was the image he was clearly working very hard to present. The priest could see the young man was like an iceberg, just the smallest chunk showing above the surface, and a mountain beneath. He didn't know him very well just yet, but he wanted to.  _ Something in his eyes, those very, very blue eyes, just sucking me in _ , the priest thought to himself, taking a deep breath. He pressed the thought down and turned over to sleep.

The next morning, the bus deposited Ivan and his bicycle, along with his suitcase, at the gates of the Meyerist compound. Dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt, brown shorts, a brown argyle sweater vest, and his sandals, he greeted Isaiah with a hearty handshake and grin, recognizing the friendly guard from the day before. “Cal said you'd be here today. Let's drive you to your bungalow, then you can walk over to his office,” the man said, and waved a young kid over. They loaded the priest's suitcase and bike into one of the blue Priuses, and drove him to a cabin not far from Cal's house and the church. Ivan set his suitcase inside the door and walked across the beautiful lawn, inhaling the fresh, crisp morning air, and admired how clean and peaceful the compound was.

He took two steps at a time with long legs up to Cal's door and knocked a little excitedly, leaning over to try and look in the living room window, but the curtains were drawn.  

The door opened to Cal, wet, with only a towel over his hips. “Ivan,” he said, a little taken aback. “They didn’t tell me you had arrived. How was the bus ride?” Cal asked, moving out of the doorway to let Ivan in.

Ivan's mouth fell open, his eyes drifting slowly down the young man's tanned, muscular body. Beads of water dripped down his long neck and over his chest, across firm pectorals and down his taut abdomen. The priest's mouth went dry and he swallowed thickly. Trying to compose himself, he quickly looked down at his sandaled feet. “Oh. Good morning. Have I- have I come too soon?” He stood in the entry awkwardly, finally managing to step inside with a little hesitation, and dared to look up again at Cal, his pronounced cheekbones ruddy with embarrassment.

Cal used his one free hand to ground Ivan with a steadying grasp to his shoulder. “Not at all. Let me go put some clothes on,” Cal offered lightly, and shut the door behind them. “The kettle is on the stove if you want to put it on for tea.” His hand slipped away, leaving a warm, wet print on Ivan’s shirt. Cal turned back to the bedroom, leaving the door cracked a little as he scoured through his closet.

Ivan looked at the hand on his shoulder, then down at the blindingly white terry cloth contrasting against the sharp  _ v _ along Cal's hip bone, and felt his heart pound too loudly in his ears. He nodded and blinked, eyes following the young man's form as he made his way to the bedroom. Ivan coughed, trying to to peer through the crack, and scolded himself, turning back towards the kitchen. He filled the kettle with water, turned on the stove, opened the cupboard where he'd seen Cal retrieve the cups the day before. He set them out, taking a deep breath and leaning on the sink to compose himself.  

Cal walked back out in a pair of khakis and a white shirt, buttoning it up. “Oh you found the mugs, good,” he said, and reached above the stove inside the cabinet for the loose leaf, he had a few canisters, different kinds.

The priest stood at the kitchen counter next to the kettle. “A watched pot never boils, but this one might,” he quipped, chuckling and casting a sidelong glance at Cal.

Cal canted his head slightly toward Ivan and pulled two tea balls from the drawer below him. He put a light jasmine into his own and offered Ivan the other ball. “I mostly avoid anything with caffeine, but I do have green tea if you prefer that over any of the herbals.”

“Jasmine sounds delightful. I used to love the scent of it, but I can’t smell anything now. Broke my nose and the sniffer doesn’t work at all anymore,” he tapped his slightly crooked nose, and winked at the younger man playfully.  

“That’s pretty bad. Someone had a good right hook,” Cal said with a little amused chuckle, and put jasmine into the other ball and set it into Ivan’s cup.

The older man smirked, raising his eyebrows. "That he did. Thank you,” Ivan took the cup and saucer, and walked over to the kitchen table. “What’s your morning routine usually like, Cal?”

“I get up for a jog before everyone else is awake, I come back and have breakfast by myself, I finish off my workout routine, and then I shower. Nothing special. Sometimes I go to pray,” Cal explained as the kettle whistled and he reached around Ivan to turn off the stove.

Ivan was too keenly aware of his proximity as Cal shifted around him. With most people, the polite thing would have been to move out of the way, yet he found himself not wanting to. It wasn't out of rudeness; on the contrary, of course, Ivan was averse to rudeness. It was something else. He remained still, looking down at his fingers resting on the rim of his saucer. “Exercise, cleanliness and prayer, all principles I, too, hold dear,” he said quietly. He hummed a little and cleared his throat. “You know, Cal, I don't expect to stay here for free. I've got a bit of a green thumb, if you want help in your orchards or gardens. I'm able-bodied, certainly willing to work if needed,” he said, lifting honey eyes to the younger man a bit shyly.

“We could always use the help,” Cal stated, but would leave what Ivan wanted to do up to the priest. He was a guest at the moment, but if he should want to learn more, of course his help would be taken. 

Cal poured the boiling water into both cups. “Have you eaten, Ivan? I have a few oranges and blueberry muffins left over.” He picked up both saucers and set them on his small table just off the kitchen, a bowl oranges in the middle. Cal was acutely aware of his own attraction, but as he did with most people that happened with, he was very good at shutting it down quick.

“No, not yet, and I am a bit hungry.” The priest picked an orange out of the bowl and began peeling it. “Working alongside your people here might give me a chance to better understand more of the teachings of your Doctor Meyer. I'm eager to do that.”

“We are  _ very _ hands on,” Cal said, in a way that was far more suggestive than he meant it to be, and quickly put a muffin next to Ivan’s cup and saucer of tea. “Quality of life comes from the quality of food, after all.”

“You are what you eat,” Ivan grinned, parting his lips and placing an orange segment on his tongue. Chewing a bit, he swallowed and laughed. “I'm full of idioms, puns and bad jokes, I know. I apologize in advance. Part of the territory being a priest, having to write sermons every week and keep people awake at the crack of dawn, all who are hungry, have to use the bathroom or are easily distracted.” He pulled another segment off and sucked a little bead of juice off the tip of his thumb, looking across the table at Cal. “What do you mean by 'hands-on', exactly?”

Cal laughed, stirring his tea a little, and offered honey to the priest for his tea. Cal put agave in his. “You do what you must to keep the masses entertained. It’s hard sometimes to come up with new things every week, isn’t it?” Though a lot of it was Cal’s main job here, that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. He blew on his tea, watching Ivan. “I mean we do the work ourselves. We never hire an outside contractor if someone in the community can do the job. We plant our own food, harvest it, cook it, build our own houses, make our own rain catchers…by hand.”

Ivan blended the honey in his cup with the small teaspoon. “Self-sufficient. That's excellent. My parish runs the same way. Everything there, we make ourselves, tend ourselves. The boys from the prison, I've put them to work and they help, it gives them a sense of purpose. It instills confidence and caring for the land, for the church. Gives them, I think, joy in their labor. I'm sure it's much the same way here? May I ask you, how do you find members? Where have these folks come from, how have they found you?”

“We have booths set up on street corners sometimes, trying to spread the word, but more often than not it’s through our good deeds that most of them stay. About a year ago there was a tornado not far from here, and we went to help in the aftermath. We brought in so many, and a think half of those who came with us stayed,” Cal explained with a smile, bringing his teacup to his lips to take a careful sip. He was pleased the priest enjoyed tea as much as he did.

Ivan took a tentative taste of his tea, licking his lips and sighing as the hot liquid slid down his throat soothingly. “Ah, Cal. This is perfection. You know, that reminds me of good old-fashioned missionary work, like what I've been doing. Reaching out to people in the streets, that's where we are needed most. I really admire your methods.” He looked at the younger man meaningfully. “Do you ever join your people in these efforts? A lot of men in your position would be content to sit back, do the sermons, gather the glory, and let others do the work. You really seem to care. You sound passionate. Invested.”

“I’ve been on the streets helping recruit since I was five,” Cal mentioned, though not always was that a pleasant experience, he hardly let it bother him right now, not with Ivan looking at him like  _ that _ . Cal gulped down another hot sip, perhaps too hastily, warming his face with the heat of it. “It’s where I feel I’m best invested. I can make  _ anyone _ believe.”

Ivan let his gaze linger on Cal’s lips as he spoke. He leaned back in his chair slightly before he began speaking. “I actually don’t doubt that one bit. There’s something about you that, I think, would compel anyone to  _ want  _ to believe. You have a gift, and you’re aware of it. That’s a powerful combination.” The priest finally looked down, folding his hands over the wooden surface of the table. 

“Not many others would agree with you,” Cal sighed and then sipped on his cooled tea. “Some do not see the difference between trying to bring others into the Light and selling religion.”

“Selling?” Ivan scoffed, reaching for the muffin. “Well, think about it. It really  _ is _ selling, in a way, what we do. You have to convince people that God - the Light - is worth giving something up for. Not necessarily money, but time, indulgences, vices. It’s an investment. It’s giving over to a higher authority. Relinquishing a measure of control to another and, yes, that requires a certain amount of salesmanship, sure. Especially for the jaded, broken people in today’s world. Many are lost, without hope, may feel it’s impossible. You have to convince them there’s a reason to try. It seems crass to me to call it selling, but if you come down to brass tacks, it really is.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “And what’s wrong with that? Nothing, I think.” He took a bite of the blueberry pastry and stared at Cal, chewing slowly.

All Cal could think of in that moment was throwing every little word Ivan had just said into Silas’ face. Only, Silas was dead, because Cal was impulsive and weak…The younger man shuddered and spread his hands to calm himself, to wipe the memories from his mind completely.  “I was told once that I was nothing but a conman who sold religion.” 

Ivan raised his eyebrows, closely observing Cal’s body language. “Those are strong words. Spoken out of jealousy, perhaps?”

“No. He thought the Movement was dead with Steve. He was convinced it was over, and that I needed to let go, and stop selling,” Cal explained, swallowing down the lump in his throat, and took another sip of tea.

“The Movement dead? But what about the people from the tornado? And all the people here depending on you? Does this person expect you to send them to the street? You can't just tell folks suddenly everything they believe in no longer exists. Is he trying to shut this place down or something?” Ivan’s brow furrowed with concern.

“He was convinced Steve was going to die, and if Steve died, then the Movement would fall apart,” Cal explained, in a rushed tone. “But Steve didn’t die. A miracle happened. He’s alive and the Movement is more than alive.”

“His miracle, the cancer, yes.” Ivan smiled broadly, nodding. “Clearly this man let his doubts get the best of him, but you prevailed.” Ivan could see how much the topic seemed to stress Cal. He reached over, dipping his chin to seek eye contact with the younger man, and grasped Cal's hand in both of his reassuringly. “Cal, listen to me. What you're doing here is right. You're following the Light, you're helping people. You're not a con, you're a good man.” He squeezed gently, his voice quieting.

Cal watched Ivan’s hand on his own, slowly working his eyes up to Ivan’s from there. He knew he wasn’t a completely good person, not a good man. Good men didn’t kill other men. He had to trust the rest he did for the movement was better than the one wrong deed he did. “I know…”

“People see good men and try to bring them down. They always will. Stay strong.” He let his hands linger, finally releasing the younger man's. The priest finished his muffin and the last of his tea. “Perhaps a bit more tea and we can be about our day then, yes?” He glanced over at the kettle.

Cal said nothing else of the matter and stood to pour more hot water into their mugs. “That sounds like a fine idea.”

They drank their tea in comfortable silence. Ivan got along well with almost everyone; he was affable and charming, as it was his business to be a 'people person'. But with Cal he felt a growing camaraderie. He was also beginning to be aware of an increasing tension between them, though he had to admit it wasn't unpleasant, only confusing. He took his last swig of tea and set the cup down. “May I use your bathroom, and we can go?”

The tension was palpable, but Cal tried to not to pay it much mind as he had with Mary, though look where that got him. He doubted Ivan was as messed up as he or Mary. He motioned to the bathroom. “Go right ahead.” Cal picked up their dishes and set them in the sink to wash.

Ivan emerged after a few minutes, wiping freshly washed hands on his sweater vest. “I’m ready if you are. Lead the way, sir!” he said enthusiastically. 

Cal gazed over the priest with a gentle smile. He opened the door out into the early morning, more of the sun higher in the sky. Once Ivan was out, he locked it again and lead Ivan down the path toward the community buildings.

Ivan tucked his hands in his pockets and followed Cal. “I’d really like to hear you speak, Cal. When do you typically do that?” 

“Saturdays, usually,” Cal answered, hands loose at his sides, his stance is more open than it usually is, but Ivan has put Cal at a certain ease that no one has been able to do in a long time. It’s refreshing for the younger man to feel as though he doesn’t need to keep his armor on.

Ivan squinted into the golden rays of the morning sun, looking around at the barn-like building with the stained glass Eye window. He nodded towards it. “Is that your church?”

“That’s where we gather, yes,” Cal answered, gesturing his hand toward the building. “Come, I’ll show you.” The door remained unlocked, so people could come and go as they pleased to pray.

The priest followed him. The room itself was humble, but he was struck by how stunning the Eye looked at the back, behind the riser, where he presumed Cal would stand. As light streamed through the glass, it created an atmosphere of reverence and contemplation. “One can almost sense the souls of all the people who've passed through these walls. I'm genuinely eager to see and hear you speak. I feel you could engender hope and motivation in many hearts, and I want to be witness to that, Cal.”  

Cal put his hand on Ivan’s shoulder, leaving it there as he looked around the gathering spot with a wistful smile. “You will be. I promise you. Saturday.”

Ivan felt a blush rise under his cheeks at the touch. He quickly looked away. “Saturday, yes,” he murmured, nodding and peering around. “That sounds excellent.”

Squeezing Ivan’s shoulder, Cal let go. “I know that’s five days from now, but I hope you’ll find it worth it.”

“I’m sure it will be worth the wait,” Ivan replied, glancing over at Cal with a small smile. 

“Do you want to see the gardens?” Cal asked, blinking his big blue eyes at Ivan innocently.

The older man ran a big hand through his short brown hair. His eyes flickered over Cal's features before he looked down again and shifted his stance to turn towards the door. “Yes, let's see the gardens. I love getting my hands dirty. Working with the earth. It's warming up a little bit today, too, with the sunshine.”

Touching Ivan’s lower back, Cal led him out of the building through the way they came. “Just this way.” There was a path there, smaller than the road.

Ivan felt a jolt of electricity at Cal's hand on him, and though he knew by now this was just his way, the Dane's tanned cheekbones grew rosier with each contact. Ivan himself did something similar with the young men at the parish, though it certainly never had  _ this _ effect, at least not on him. Physical contact was usually a good way to form a bond with someone, create closeness, break barriers, and ease tension. He told himself Cal was just very good at doing that with people, and did his best to push past it, focusing on the foliage, the birds, the buildings, the smiling faces walking past.   

Where Cal did do this to help others, it wasn’t necessarily what he was comfortable with often. There was a difference in helping people and being connected, and being close to people. Cal told himself it was both here, he wanted to get know the priest better, and for that to happen he knew he’d have to break his own walls down. They walked through the path, through large trees that shaded them as the sun lifted into the sky. Garden beds were seen not far off, many people already out getting their gardening done.

Ivan grew excited as they neared the nursery and they could see so many people already tending the beds of vegetables. “You have quite a crew out here!” he exclaimed. “It's great to see so many young people so happy in their work like this,” he commented as he observed the peaceful, happy expressions on all the youthful faces. “I like the shirts. Can I get one like that?” he asked, noticing the blue tee shirts with the Eye on them.

“Of course,” Cal said with a nod, and opened the gate into the gardening area, the only reason it was fenced off was because of animals they didn’t want in. He held the gate for Ivan. Just beyond the gardens were the groves of trees.

Ivan strolled over, walking the rows between plants, bending to observe here and there. “Cucumbers, eggplant, carrots, kale, ahhh yes, cabbage. Lovely. All organic as you described.” He stopped and squatted down to inspect the leaves of one plant. “This basil looks wonderful. With this produce, your food must be amazing.” He stood up and looked over at the orchard. “Show me your apple trees, Cal,” he grinned exuberantly.

Aware Ivan was obsessed with apples on only a few observations of him, Cal led the way back out, through another gate, shutting it behind them. “How many trees have you back home?” he asked, conversationally.

“We started out with only one, which was struck by lightning in a storm,” Ivan said, keeping stride with the younger man. “But that tree grew back, and we were able to plant many more too. Now we have about eight trees on the church grounds.”

“How fortunate it grew back,” Cal commented. “Where you lost to start, you gained back tenfold.”

“It happened during the time I was being tested. The Lord giveth and he taketh away. It looks like He's blessed you richly, dear Cal,” Ivan said, putting his hand on the shorter man's shoulder.  

“The Light’s blessed us all as a community,” Cal said, unable to take credit just for himself. Nothing would be here without the work everyone. The weight of Ivan’s hand was comforting, and friendly, but it warmed Cal from the core out.

“Forgive me for misspeaking; I will remember to call Him the Light. I mean no offense, and while I’m a guest here, it’s important to me not to be rude.” He rubbed Cal’s back lightly before sliding his hand back down to the pocket of his shorts.

“It’s not rude. Sometimes, to get through to the outside world, we call The Light God, it’s easier for people to relate, to understand our Movement that way,” Cal explained, watching Ivan’s hand as it slipped away.

As they stood amongst the trees, Ivan watched Cal attentively, admiring the way the late morning sun brought out multiple shades of blues, greens and even browns in his eyes. “It’s a good strategy,” he replied. “Making an abstract concept concrete. Relatable. It’s not easy to get people who lack faith to gasp having personal communication with something, or some _ one _ , they cannot see.” 

“Exactly,” Cal agreed and smiled over at Ivan, as he started to walk again through the grove of trees, rows of apple, and pears, mostly, a few orange ones.

“Ah, so here’s the source of those delightful oranges you have at your house,” Ivan grinned, finally pulling his gaze off Cal and walking towards one of the trees. 

Cal lifted a basket from the rung of them on the path and handed it to Ivan. “Feel free to take as many as you like.”

“Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” the priest replied, taking the basket eagerly. He looked around to see if they were alone in the grove, and lowered his voice before continuing to speak. “If this is too personal, please stop me, but I couldn’t help but notice you’re not wearing a ring. Are you allowed to marry? I’m not sure how that works with your religion,” he asked, cautious to focus his gaze on the tree. 

“We encourage marriage in the Movement, it’s the staple of our community. I could marry if I wanted, but I haven’t found anyone yet,” Cal said, leaving out the parts about Sarah and Mary, as both of those were too far gone for him now. “My focus has always been on work, on the Movement.”

“I see,” Ivan nodded, pulling fruit off the branches in deliberate movements. “Yes, of course it makes sense. I've been ‘married’ to my work as well. To the church. It's become my whole world, really.” In truth, Ivan had been painfully lonely for so long, and despite being surrounded by people who he considered friends, he really had no one he could confide in, as everyone at the parish looked to him for guidance and leadership. When he had doubts or moments of weakness, times of sadness, he had to turn to God for comfort. It wasn't always enough, though he wouldn't admit it to himself. He simply carried on.

“So, you had mentioned you lead the east coast. Are there other communities like this one? Other leaders like yourself in the Movement? People you can confide or consult in?” Ivan secretly wondered if Cal had anyone close he could talk to, or if he was also as alone as Ivan was.  

“The West Coast Division, which is run by Bill and Felicia out of San Diego. Our retreat in Peru, usually run by Silas, but he’s gone missing. And of course the Midwest, which is currently looking as well. There aren’t very many of us 10Rs yet,” Cal explained. “I used to be able to unburden to many of my peers, but lately,” Cal dropped his voice, lowering his head, spreading his hands, “I feel there’s a lot of scrutiny around me.” 

“Scrutiny?” Ivan repeated, tilting his head toward Cal inquisitively. “Why’s that?”

“Some of the other 10R don’t believe I’m capable of doing this job,” Cal admitted, “But I’ve done more for the Movement than they have. They want to sit at home in their expensive houses paid for by the Movement, and say they’re doing things.” Cal shook a little, hands in fists at his side, but quickly he let his fingers loosen, dangling. “They’re trying to get me removed from my post.”

The priest stepped closer to Cal, his amber eyes darkening. “What? Removed? I wonder what their motivations are. Is this simply jealousy? A power struggle perhaps?” He checked himself quickly. He realized he didn't yet know this young man well enough to suddenly feel so protective. He didn't even have the other side of the story. There could be merit to their concerns. But there was more to this young man, that much he sensed, and he was very clear on several things: Cal's sincerity, his commitment, and his desire to help these people.

“I’ve made mistakes in the past, made up for them, overcome a lot,” Cal explained, “But they don’t always see that. They think I’m in over my head without Steve here. But I’m not. I-I’m not.” He heaved a sigh. “I have so many plans for the Movement, ways to get it out there and seen. They don’t agree with me.”

Ivan set the basket of oranges on the ground, and put both hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “Cal, maybe this is part of why I’m here. Perhaps I can help you. I admit, it’s unorthodox, a man of my background coming to something new and progressive like your movement. But our spiritual visions seem closely aligned. I..I  _ feel _ something here. I think you do, too, and I sense you could use some support, if I’m hearing you right. I know I have a lot to learn yet, but I believe in you Cal, and I’m willing to put in the time,” Ivan said, seeking out the other man’s blue eyes sincerely.

Instantly, Cal felt stronger being closer to Ivan, and he knew in that moment he was right. Whatever the reason, they had destiny together in this, somehow. Hopefully a vision would be clear to him soon enough. “We can learn from each other, I think, Ivan. You and all your years in religion.”

“I've been at it a couple decades now, my dear boy, working with all kinds of people. Challenges only make me more determined. We'll figure this thing out together.” He bent over and retrieved the basket of oranges. “Shall we?” Ivan smiled, gesturing back towards the buildings.   

Cal nodded, silently, keeping the rest to himself. Ivan had enough to consider than to see Cal in a weakened spot. He gestured toward the path, and followed. “Let’s get you that shirt.”

****

Ivan laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was afraid to close his eyes. Every time he did, he saw Cal. The white of his shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes, eyes that stared into him, saw through him, saw the lustful, confused feelings in his heart. The priest felt too hot in his pajamas, and he sat up in bed, standing and shedding them. He folded them neatly on the bureau, and climbed back into bed in his white briefs, but soon, even they felt too heavy against his body. He sighed and tugged them off under the thin white sheet, lifting his hips and slipping them down his long, lean legs. He dared to close his eyes on an exhale, but then, there he was: the young man, standing in a doorway, naked but for a towel loosely draped over muscular hips. A small moan escaped his lips, and he silently prayed to God to forgive him his human frailties as he slid his hand down to his rapidly filling cock. 

He turned his head to the side in frustration before finally wrapping long fingers around himself, grasping, and tugging. Just the first touch made him ache, and beads of moisture instantly formed at the tip. Cal's firm, tanned torso, the definition of his biceps, the curve of his backside when he walked away to the bedroom, all the times he touched Ivan, the way he looked into his eyes, said his name...the priest's head fell back against his pillow, jaw slackening, as his strokes grew faster, the thin, silky flesh sliding effortlessly up and down his hard shaft. He pumped himself a bit frantically, and after only a few minutes, spilled hot seed over his belly in a strangled whimper. Panting in short gasps, he got out of bed and stumbled for the bathroom to clean himself up. He leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on his face, refusing to look in the mirror. He got back in bed, sleep finally overtaking him.

****

The next day, Ivan woke early, eager for a morning bike ride. It passed his mind that he might encounter Cal, as he had said he went for jogs in the morning, and grinning to himself with flutter in his stomach, he attempted to dismiss the thought with a shake of his head.

He rode easily, clad in his new tee shirt and black shorts; no one was out at this hour, the sun just starting to peek over the horizon. After a short time, he rounded a bend and saw Cal, dressed in nothing but small blue jogging shorts. The Dane stared, awestruck at the sight, like a deer caught in headlights, and suddenly felt a violent jolt and saw only grass and soil. He'd ridden his bike straight into a tree.

“Ivan?” Cal called, running over to the priest, having not seen him more than he heard him, Cal had turned back on his path to go help Ivan up. He reached out strong hands and gently helped Ivan sit up, checking him over. “Ivan?”

The older man sat on the grass, a bit disoriented. After several seconds too long, he realized he was staring at Cal's chest and blinked brown eyes up at the young man’s face, blushing and getting to his knees. “Oh boy, I must've hit a rock or something. I'm fine, I'm fine,” he stammered, brushing dirt off his legs and standing. He smoothed down his hair and picked up his bike, pretending to give it a cursory inspection. “Yeah, no worse for wear. Just clumsy. Well, good morning,” he chuckled, finally letting himself look back over at Cal with a little grin.  

Cal watched, still panting, hands on his hips as he brought down his breathing slowly, but was looking Ivan over carefully. “Sure you’re okay?” His brow furrowed in the way it usually did when Cal worried genuinely. 

Everywhere Ivan looked was wrong; if he looked down, he was confronted with the blue satin of Cal's shorts perfectly encasing thick, powerful thighs. If he looked up further, there were those tanned, tight, washboard abs. Further up, the bloom of red skin flushed with the efforts of exercise, and even if he closed his eyes, the younger man's panting punctuated the air torturously. Ivan swallowed thickly and coughed, feeling his cheekbones warm again, as they were more frequently now in Cal's presence. “No, really, I'm alright. But thank you,” he smiled, leaning on the bike for support.  

Offering Ivan a smile, Cal steadied him and the bike, watching the priest wobble a little bit. Cal was not unaware of the tension that had started to grow between them, like nothing else, not like Sarah or Mary, it was  _ different _ . “I was just heading back for breakfast.”

“Oh yes, some breakfast would be helpful. I just came right out this morning, didn't eat first. Didn't want to miss the peace of the early morning,” Ivan remarked, walking his bike, with Cal, back toward the main buildings, sore from his tumble and limping slightly.   

“We’ll have some tea and breakfast then, and I’ll get you some ice,” Cal mentioned, helpfully, and walked slowly back with the priest, not wanting to push. They strolled up to his bungalow, and he helped Ivan put his bike to the side of the steps, and then pushed the front door open.

“Thank you. You know actually it does hurt some, just my ankle, though I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe I’ll just sit down,” the priest said with a wince. He moved up the steps and into the house slowly.

Cal offered his shoulder for the priest and then carefully stepped them up to the house into the opened door. He lead Ivan to a chair, and gently sat him down. Cal moved around his kitchen, setting the tea on, and getting a bag of ice. “Which ankle?”

“Left,” Ivan said, craning his neck to look into the kitchen as he gingerly lifted his leg onto the small loveseat. 

Cal returned with a pack of ice and a towel. The ice was wrapped in it. He sat on the coffee table there in front of Ivan and looked at his foot, a little swollen but not bad. Taking the priests sandal off, Cal placed the ice over it. “There.”

The younger man’s hands felt warm against his skin. Ivan hissed slightly when the cold towel contacted his skin, but nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Cal, I appreciate it. I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said, relaxing back into the sofa a bit. “The ice helps, though.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Cal said, and gently pat Ivan’s knee, and stood again. “Same tea as last time?”

“That sounds perfect, yes,” the priest answered, staring up at the younger man as he stood. He shifted his gaze thoughtfully to the Eye above the fireplace. It’s presence was truly striking in the small room.

Cal made the tea and brought it back with toast and a little bowl of jam. “The bread is made here, as is the jam. It’s raspberry. Very good.”

Ivan took the plate and began spreading some of the jam on a slice of toast while the tea steeped. “It looks great, thank you,” he said, taking a bite. The tart sweetness was just right, and he smiled, nodding, his mouth too full to speak just yet. Finally he licked his lips. “It’s delicious!” he murmured happily. 

“Glad you like it,” Cal said, though he hardly made any of it himself, it was good to know the community did well in making their own foods. “If you’ll excuse me, I should shower, I’m being a terrible host like this.”

“Oh, of course. But you’re a wonderful host, really,” Ivan gushed, unable to help himself from admiring Cal as he got up, as long as he wasn’t noticing. He quickly turned his attention back to the toast and tea when the younger man turned around, and smiled shyly.

Cal slipped his sneakers off by the door and stuffed his socks into them for now. He disappeared into the bedroom and then the bathroom to shower, and change. He wasn’t but a few minutes, and he came out freshly scrubbed clean and smelling like the Meyerist soap in all the bathrooms. Cal wore his usual button down and khaki pants, nothing special. He had a pair of socks in hand and sat across from Ivan as he put them on.

When Cal returned, Ivan had finished his toast and was sipping his tea, reclined on the small sofa and reading a Meyerist pamphlet that had been on the end table. He was just nearing the end as Cal sat across from him. “This is so well written,” he commented. “I'm actually surprised I hadn't heard of Meyerism before I met you.”

“We’ve only been around since roughly 1974,” Cal explained. “Very quiet until about a decade ago when things really started to boom for us.” Cal stood, socks on, and walked to his desk to pull out the actual book and handed it to Ivan.

Ivan set down his teacup, stretching out to grasp the book and look it over. “A bit more in-depth than the children's picture book, I see. Do you think I can borrow this, Cal?” he asked, flipping through the pages and pausing to read a few passages.

“Of course.” Cal had a few hanging around anyway, his personal copy was in Ivan’s hand, but that was fine, he wouldn’t trust anyone more than the priest to take care of his personal belongings.

Ivan set the book down and picked his tea back up, stopping to adjust the ice pack and rub his ankle a bit. He made a little sound and continued. “Tell me about some of your ideas for spreading the word of the Light and Meyerism, Cal. You mentioned the other folks didn't agree with what you had in mind?”

“I wanted to bring Meyerist compounds to other countries, overseas, to spread the word. Help people in need, you know?” Cal said, aware it sounded like a lot of things Christians would do, but maybe they had something there. “How can we really reach everyone if we’re sitting here in America?”

“You're right. Exactly why I wanted to come here. Get out of my comfort zone and reach people who need help. To me, shouldn't that be the goal, ultimately?” He nodded at the book on the coffee table. “It looks like that is what Steve wants, to bring the Light to everyone. I can't imagine not wanting to share hope with others. Can you tell me what their argument is against this? Why would they not want that to happen?”

“They say I’m moving too fast, too big for the media. It’s not what ‘Steve would want’. But they’re wrong, Steve wanted to bring Light to everyone, he had to start small and now we can keep growing,” Cal sighed, impassioned about his work-- about his faith.

Watching Cal's big blue eyes, his hands waving as he spoke, seeing the fire in his spirit, all stirred Ivan's heart like a spark catching tinder. He identified with this passion he had for his faith. “Sometimes people can be threatened by change, by growth. And they might also see you, and your fire, and perhaps how much you inspire others, and want to put that fire out.” He rubbed his knee thoughtfully, looking up at the Eye. “How many people do you have trying to work against you right now, Cal? I know nothing about the hierarchy or organization, but if I can help swing the tide in your favor, maybe we can do something.”

“I don’t know for certain. People are very quiet about what they think. Bill and Felicia don’t agree, however, but they would if Steve agreed, and Steve’s still recovering,” Cal said, quietly, hands clasped in front of him, between his legs like a little boy.

Ivan looked at Cal imploringly. “If Steve can’t come here, maybe we can see him? Is he able to talk? You said he was healed, right? Maybe he can help us.”

“Recovering,” Cal said, and he hadn’t talked to him yet, too afraid of finding out what the others had said to him about Cal himself. “He’s in Peru.”

Ivan sat up, pulling the bag of ice off his ankle. It was red, and too cold; Ivan rubbed it vigorously to warm the extremity up a bit. “Have you thought about going to Peru, Cal? Depending on how serious this situation is with Bill and Felicia, it might not be a bad idea, you know. Maybe not right now, but, perhaps soon.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Cal said, taking the ice back and then reached over to warm the priests ankle with his own two, fiery hot hands. I might. We’ll see how the next few weeks proceed.”

Ivan's eyes widened and a moan escaped his lips as the younger man's hands encircled his ankle. “It’s...ahhh,” he started, not quite finishing his thought, and he held his breath slightly at the sensation. He waited a moment before continuing. “Your hands are just very warm. Took me a moment.”

“Like fire?” Cal sighed. “I’ve been told. Thought it was metaphorically for a while.” He let go of Ivan’s ankle.”I think it’s fine, maybe bruised.”

Ivan nodded, saddened at the loss of contact but concealing it. “I agree, nothing serious.” He sighed. “I’m sure I can walk on it now, if you wanted to start about the day, I can join you,” he said, taking his last sip of tea.

Cal stood and offered his hand for Ivan, to help him to his feet. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Ivan took Cal’s hand, rather eager for it. “No, I am fine.” He placed some weight on his left leg to test its strength. “I don’t think I’ll be running today, but I can walk,” he smiled convivially. “What did you have in mind for us today, Cal? I can do a remarkable amount of things sitting down, I should warn you,” the priest winked. 

A warm flush graced Cal’s cheeks, spreading down his neck to his shoulder hidden under his shirt, and he offered the priest a boyish smile. “I, uh…” Cal, for once, was at a loss for words, as though the other man had caught him off guard with the statement. “We… we could go help the kitchen.”

Ivan's eyes followed the gentle flush of pink from Cal's cheeks down his neck and collarbone; it was breathtaking, and noting how he seemed lost for words, it was Ivan's turn to “ground” the younger man. He placed a warm hand on Cal's wrist, squeezing lightly. “That sounds perfect. It will give me a chance to work with those beautiful vegetables from your garden,” he said quietly with a soft smile. “Let's do that.”   

“The kitchen staff will appreciate the help,” Cal said, not one who was too handy around the kitchen, but to give them something to do that didn’t require much walking, it was all he could think of. He’d work on his Saturday talk later that night. He turned his palm and took Ivan’s hand, and lead him out, without thinking much else about it.

Ivan's leg felt a bit better, but he wouldn't have admitted it if his life depended on it, simply because holding Cal's hand as they walked was sending a pleasant, warm energy through his body that made the priest vibrate with an unknown joy. They made their way slowly to the larger building that housed the kitchen and dining hall, and Ivan glanced now and then at Cal with a small smile.

Likewise, Cal was sure Ivan was fine, could have even offered his shoulder instead, but their hands clasped together, palm to palm, set an easy, warm feeling through Cal he hadn’t felt in a long time. He led them through, shouldered the door open into the kitchen, and they were asked to start with the potatoes. A bucket of freshly picked russets were in one bucket, ready to be washed and peeled.

Ivan stood at the sink and lathered up his big hands and forearms, eager to get started. Once clean, he grabbed the peeler and they fell into a rhythm, working with the vegetables and placing them in bowls as they went. Side by side with Cal, the priest sliced and chopped, conversing with the younger man. “What was it like growing up here, Cal?” 

Cal had his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, peeling, though not as fast or as well as Ivan, which made him chuckle to himself. He licked his bottom lip thoughtfully at the question presented. “Rough. It started off with just tents and fires. Really rugged. Somehow Steve convinced my father that it would get better,” Cal explained, “And it did. What you see now took a lot of time. I loved it. I got to be a kid, and away from my mother. For a while.”

Ivan continued moving quickly and carefully, his eyes wandering to the younger man with concern at the mention of his mother. “Your mother. Was she an unkind woman? Why would you want to be away from her?” Ivan bit his lip, concentrating on a particularly tough spot on one potato. 

“My mother…” Cal said, drifting off a little as he stared too hard at the potato in his hand, washing it too hard, too rough between his palms, “She’s in a home now.” Cal wasn’t sure he wanted to actually talk about this. He could face his mother every so often, he could endure telephone calls now and then, but anything else was… off the table.

Ivan nodded, feeling the discomfort rolling of the younger man like an inky tide. “I understand, say no more, my friend,” he murmured, jostling slightly closer and dropping his voice lower. Clearing his throat, he continued, a little brighter. “But it sounds like Steve was a good father figure though,” the priest said, rinsing a potato off and moving to the cucumbers. 

“He was-- he  _ is _ ,” Cal said quietly, gripping the potato so tightly his hand hurt. He swallowed and looked at Ivan, slightly red rimmed eyes. “Sore subject. Thank the Light I had Steve.”

Ivan clearly saw the pain in Cal, and it made him ache. This was part of being a priest, identifying, empathizing and healing. The young man had no one to turn to. Ivan looked around the kitchen at the others, who were occupied with working and not paying attention to them. He wished that they were alone, but he stood solidly next to the smaller man, his honey eyes gazing deeply into Cal's. “You still have Steve. The Light is protecting him. And no matter what happens with the others, you have The Light and you have me.” The older man brushed his arm heavily against Cal, leaning into him. “It's going to be ok.”  

Cal had yet to even talk to Steve since he had his miracle healing. They said he wanted time alone to be with the Light. Cal took it at face value; he’d wait. The younger man looked over at Ivan with a small, wary smile, and finally let the clean potato go. “Thank you.” Cal was not used to being the one who needed someone else-- to Unburden to someone  _ outside _ their community.

Ivan pulled the peeler expertly along the length of the cucumber he held firmly, and nodded at the younger man. “So for the 0’s and 1’s, to get people started, how does one begin, exactly? How do you initiate people? For reference, of course. You might be ‘converting’ me, you know,” he said, winking slyly as he stripped the skin from the vegetable. 

“Community service, mostly you go out with other higher ladder members, you learn to talk to people, to know them, to bring them into The Light,” Cal said, mechanically, grabbing the peeler now to take the thing skin off his potato. “There’s a few tests, nothing extreme. You’d have a guide.” Cal looked at Ivan. “You could probably pass the first four rungs easily.”

Ivan felt excited hearing that. “You think so? Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get me started soon, don’t you think? I should read the book first, of course. Let me ask you something though. Would it be a problem for you that I’m...I’m a priest?” Ivan was concerned that he might have to renounce his faith, and while he was willing to accept The Light and these new teachings, and he felt they did parallel his own beliefs already, he was not sure, as with other religions, if there was a full renunciation that would be required. That could present a problem.

Sliding the sharp blade over the rough skin, watching it fall into a heap in the bottom of the sink, Cal shook his head. “I think it would  show great hope. A belief that all is one, we all believe in the same entity in its entirety. You'd be the first to lead us into a new era, a path. Steve would agree. If you can see the Light for what it is, as more than just  _ God _ maybe the world could start your see as you do.” Cal’s mind slipped perfectly back into his natural mental state, and he smiled over at the priest. “Unity at it’s best.”

Ivan felt his heart race a little at Cal's words. It was exciting; an opportunity to bring faith and hope to a wider audience, to share his miracle, Steve's miracle, to join with this young man and do even more of what he'd been doing all along. He finished the last cucumber and set the slices in the glass bowl by the sink. Leaning on the counter, the priest glowed from the inside out when he looked at Cal. “You don't know how much this means to me. This is all I've ever wanted, Cal. Exactly what I want.“ He washed and dried his hands and leaned back against the counter, watching the shorter man finish up.

“I’m glad,” Cal said, taking in a deep breath and set his peeled potatoes aside, into the bowl of water so they wouldn’t brown too quickly. “I really hope you get to meet Steve. You’d get along, I think.”

“You mentioned Eddie did his 6R in Peru. Maybe if we timed it right, we could both head over there, depending on how well I do...if I pass to that rung,” Ivan suggested, drying his hands and forearms on a kitchen towel and draping it on a nearby rack. He put his hands on his hips and watched Cal carefully.

Cal washed his hands and dried them on another towel and looked over at Ivan. It was a leap, of course, to hope to get that far so soon, but it wasn’t improbable either. Ivan was a learned man of faith, it wouldn’t be too hard for him. “I believe you’ll do very well, and we should definitely plan that trip.” Unless Steve came here sooner. 

“Well first things first, I start the right way. Read that book, and start on my training,” Ivan grinned. “Should we have lunch?”

The ladies in the kitchen had been preparing lunch for the compound, salads and mixed stir fry. The potatoes were for that evening at dinner. Cal smiled and rested his hand on Ivan’s shoulder and took the offered plates of food. “It’s not much, but we’ve plenty of picked fruit from earlier this week.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ivan stood under the hot spray of water, lathering himself, running sudsy hands over his aching muscles. The priest turned the faucet off, stepped out and wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, inspecting his face. He turned his head to the side, looking at his beard. It was a bit old-fashioned. Maybe it made him look older. Ivan was never remotely vain, but around Cal he felt a little more conscious of his appearance, if only because of how good-looking the younger man was. He picked up his razor from his toiletry bag and lathered up his face, carefully shaving it off.  

Dressing for the day, he chose a simple white tee shirt and some khaki shorts along with his faithful sandals; simple enough, but they got him through the best and worst of times. He’d switch to his boots as the weather grew colder, but he was used to chillier temperatures, and the early autumn here was rather balmy.  The priest was still a bit sore from his fall the day before, and he elected to walk to Cal’s that morning. He made his way up the steps and knocked on Cal’s door.

Cal opened the door, dressed as he always was in his slacks but had on his Meyerist shirt today. The second his blue gaze caught sight of Ivan, he had to do a double take, not even sure it  _ was _ him. He stepped out the door to look at him closer. “You shaved?” Cal kept his hands at his side, but they twitched there, wanting to reach out and touch the priest’s face, curious.

Ivan ran his hand over his smooth, clean shaven skin, and smiled brightly at the younger man. “Yeah, I thought it was time for a change, maybe the beard had to go. Made me look a bit old.” He laughed and looked down, a blush rising up his tawny cheekbones. The way Cal looked at him made him feel warm, and he shifted from one foot to the other before finally returning the younger man’s arresting gaze a bit bashfully.  

“I like it,” Cal said, the words slipping out before he realized he’d said them, his eyes were resting now on Ivan’s prominent lips, and then shifted to his eyes, also more noticeable somehow. Cal shifted, fingers curling against his palms.

Ivan licked his lips at the younger man's words, and the rose in his face deepened even more. The priest leaned against the doorway, taking a deep breath. “Thank you. I'm, glad. I'm glad you like it,” he said softly. He cleared his throat. “I...I finished the book, last night. I was up late reading it,” Ivan said, pulling it from his pocket and looking down at it, still feeling too warm to look into Cal's eyes again just yet.

Cal touched the book so their fingers nearly brushed, and he smiled at Ivan openly, even if he wasn’t looking at him directly. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asked, “It hits you hard.”

“There was a time I didn't believe in the existence of evil really, but the way Steve characterizes it, as toxic influences that seek to poison us, keep us from Light and Truth...it's true. They serve a purpose, to test us and make us stronger, but for the weak, they suck them into a hole of despair, of ignorance, just the way he says. It's our job to bring them out into the Light.” Ivan shook his head. “This man has been through so much and has the wisdom to show for it. I can see why you are the way you are today,” he said softly, looking into Cal's eyes.  

“Yes. Exactly,” Cal said with a soft smile. “We have one duty while we’re on this planet, so we can live happily in The Garden when the end comes.” Cal was so glad that Ivan understood, that he wanted to understand more, and keep going. So many people thought it was bogus bullshit.

Ivan stepped inside. “You know, Cal, I was wondering if perhaps this Saturday, after your sermon, I could give my testimony. It might be soon but, I’m eager to do it.” He rubbed his palms together before placing them in his pockets. 

“That’d be wonderful,” Cal said, shutting the door behind them. Cal had been working tirelessly on his sermon, but he honestly wasn’t sure what it would be yet, nothing seemed just  _ right _ .

“I feel inspired after reading the book. I’m getting a better understanding now, I think.” He came in and went over to the stove, already filling the kettle with water and setting it to boil, feeling comfortable doing it now. The priest sat down at the small table in the kitchen and watched Cal join him.

“That is usually all it takes. The book is so enlightening, it really opens the world up to a new light, doesn’t it?” Cal asked, taking a seat across from Ivan, his own stance and mannerisms are less robotic these days, casual and easy, no one left to impress, as he knows he doesn't have to with Ivan, and never did.

“Yes it does. I’m eager to reach new young minds with this. I think it presents an opportunity to bring this hope to people who might be less receptive to traditional religion. Just as you say you sometimes call ‘The Light’, ‘God’, there are also those who stop listening when you speak of God. For these people…” Ivan pauses, running his fingertips over the wood grain of the table and looking into Cal’s eyes, “They may be more willing to open up, open their hearts, for this message. What’s your experience been with this?”

Cal smiled, pleased that Ivan understood, and eagerly so. “Unity in religion.” He watched the priest, carefully, all too aware of his own growing feelings for Ivan, and unsure how to proceed, or if he did at all. Given the nature of their friendship, Cal didn’t want to cross another line as he had with Mary. In his own thoughts, Cal didn’t even register Ivan’s question.

Noticing Cal was distracted as he stared at him, Ivan looked away, needing to break the intensity of his stare. He felt the warmth creeping from his chest, up his neck into his face, and attempted to recover by rephrasing his question. “Yes certainly unity. But what I mean is...have you, uh, had anyone who was perhaps aloof or even resistant to traditional religion feel more receptive to Meyerism?” Ivan silently congratulated himself for being able to collect his thoughts, as he was himself very distracted more and more in Cal’s company, the feelings he had for him growing ever stronger the more time the spent together.

Slowly, Cal’s mind caught up and he realized Ivan had spoken, and the younger man ducked his head a little, tips of his ears pink. “Uh, yeah, sorry.” He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “We’ve had a few. There’s always those people who think God has left them completely without anything. To tell them God loves them, would be a slap in the face. To tell them, The Light and Truth leads to enlightenment and they can make their own path, with consequences for their actions abided by, seems to bring those types forward. They want control of their futures. Not God.”

Ivan drifted a little, his gaze stopping on Cal’s lips as he spoke, and the priest wondered if Cal felt the same way he did. He pushed the thought away. Yes, he did seem at times like he might, but Ivan insisted to himself he was imagining it. Someone like Cal...he had his pick at this place, with so many younger people here looking up to him. Ivan swallowed the small lump in his throat at the idea, smoothed the fabric of his shorts, and stood to check the kettle.

Cal wouldn’t see Ivan doing everything himself and got up to do their usual routine, something they’d grown to do over the last few weeks together. He got down the cups and the tea, jasmine as usual, and filled the little tea balls. He set everything up and by the time he was finished, the kettle had started to whistle.

“You mentioned you send some of the newer 1Rs, 2Rs, out to do missionary work on the streets. Hands out leaflets and such. I’d like to go on one of those trips sometime, if you’ll allow it. I’m good with people, and I think it would help me. Once I start my training, start working with you. I can talk to almost anyone,” Ivan said, rambling a bit. He leaned on the kitchen counter, watching Cal prepare the tea, and pulled out a couple of plates, setting some fruit on them for their breakfast.

“You are very good with words and people, Ivan,” Cal said, watching the other man gather their snack, the usual sort for them. “I’d love to have you come along on one of our trips into the city.”

“Thank you...I’m eager to see you in action too. You...are very good...also.” Ivan blushed and stumbled over his words a little, but pretended to be occupied with picking out the most evenly sized muffins from the bread basket. He examined them, and satisfied they seemed equal, he placed them on the plates and sat back down at the table, nudging one toward Cal’s seat.

Cal poured the boiling water into the cups and brought them over and sat one down in front of Ivan. “Thank you,” he said, and took the muffin, breaking off pieces of it to placed into his mouth, behind pink lips.

Ivan stared, though he tried desperately not to, as the pastry disappeared into Cal’s mouth, looking between his long, slender fingers and back to his mouth. The priest's breath caught in his throat. He quickly looked down and picked up his cup to take a swallow of tea, forgetting it was still too hot to drink, and immediately yelped. “Ahh!” He dropped the cup and it spilled in his lap; he jumped up quickly from the table, sending his chair flying backwards, the cup shattering to the floor, and tea everywhere.

Putting his hand to his lips to ease the burn and simultaneously wiping the wet stain from the front of his shorts, his face went crimson with embarrassment. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I-I-I’m sorry, Cal. I’ll replace your cup,” he stammered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cal said, on his feet quickly, getting another towel, and going to Ivan to help, but stopped short, reeling his hands back in. “It’s just a cup.” Cal adverted his eyes. He’d never felt so… awkward.

Ivan snapped up straight seeing Cal’s hand nearing with the towel, and he quickly snatched it from him. “Oh I’ve...I’ll...I’ll just use your bathroom,” he hurried, red-faced, to the restroom.

Cal was bright red when Ivan hurried off and occupied himself with broken tea cup on the ground, picking up the pieces, only to be reminded of the moment Mary lashed out, and then minutes later, killing Silas. Ivan would never condone killing, he was pretty sure.

Ivan emerged from the bathroom, still blushing from his clumsiness and full of apology. “Thanks and again, I’m sorry.” He sat back down and sighed heavily. “Burned myself but I’m fine.” He wiped his hand over his face and tried to manage a smile.

Cal nodded, and set the broken cup in the trash and made a new cup of tea for Ivan, setting it on the table. “Let it sit for a bit.” He was careful not to let them touch.

Ivan took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. He was rattled and needed to calm down; this anxiousness and excitement in his belly every time he sensed that spark of energy between them was becoming too much. He needed to compartmentalize it and calm down. Looking to try and move on from the episode and recover his dignity, he chuckled lightly and murmured, “I think perhaps I just didn’t get enough sleep last night. I had a cup of black tea before bed, I’m sure that was it.” He leaned back a little, loosening his shoulders, softening his posture, trying to release the tension he was holding. “I heard they do some yoga down by the community building at noon. Maybe I can do that today. My ankle feels better, and I feel I could use the stretching. I’ll pick up some gym clothes on the way over, perhaps.” Ivan said, picking up a piece of his muffin, and taking a bite.

Cal moved over to Ivan and rested his hands on his shoulder, and then worked his fingers into the tense muscle. “Yoga is amazing for flexibility, and helping to realign and focus yourself. Comes in handy, even if you aren’t needing the whole routine.”

Ivan’s eyes closed and he gasped when he felt soothing pressure on his shoulders. Heat rushed into his belly, and he sat up slightly, trying to slow himself from  _ feeling _ so much. A low groan escaped his lips before he could stop it, and the truth was, he didn’t even notice; the priest was too lost in how strong Cal’s hands were and the simmering warmth flowing inside him. He slowed his breathing and relaxed. “That feels...that feels uhm, good, very...good…” he said quietly.

Admittedly, Cal was using Ivan’s tense shoulders as an excuse to touch, to feel skin under his own after so long, the touch of intimacy and the closeness it brought. Ivan not minding, and even  _ enjoying _ himself, only spurred the Movement Leader on. Cal pressed strong thumbs into tense muscle, working around in circles, kneading the spots tender. “Tell me when to stop.”

“Please don't stop,” Ivan whispered. It has been ages since anyone had touched the priest like this, no one even since his wife, though this was a simple shoulder rub, nothing more, the feeling of Cal's strong fingers against his muscles stirred a sweet ache inside Ivan. He allowed himself to lean into the touch, to feel safe, to let his walls down for even this moment, to set aside his fear and simply enjoy the moment for whatever it might be, though deep down he knew the man was just being kind...not likely anything more. His head lolled back slightly as he loosened under the younger man's magical hands.

Cal was tempted to be honest, tempted to ruin what they had with things he really should keep to himself. He worked his fingers into spots that seemed to make the priest groan out the most, the sound eliciting sharp thrills of want right down to Cal’s groin. Thank the Light he was  _ behind _ Ivan.

Ivan was getting aroused, and he became aware of it when he involuntarily moved his hand to rub the painful throbbing between his legs. As he began to press down, he quickly stopped himself. His heart sank in panic for a moment as he wondered if Cal had seen him. He placed a large hand over his lap, attempting to appear casual, and after a moment, when the ache wouldn't stop, he reached behind him to touch Cal's hand and stop him. His face was flushed and breathing erratic. “Thank you, Cal...that's wonderful,” Ivan rasped hoarsely.  

Oh, too far then. Cal’s hand curled back and he left them at his side for a moment. “Sorry,” he murmured, clearing his throat, and then picked up his cup and went to refill it with more hot water, even if he didn’t need it.

“Don’t be,” Ivan blushed, embarrassed at himself. “I-I-I’m sorry.” He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for, but it seemed appropriate in the moment. “You’re very good at that. It helped,” Ivan said, trying to look at the table as though it was very interesting, the most fascinating thing in the world. Slowly he tried to recover himself, and rubbed a hand vigorously across his face. He immediately regretted stopping Cal, but he knew he couldn’t have continued like that for long.

“Maybe I’ll join you for that yoga,” Cal suggested, bringing up what they were talking about before all this happened, before everything got very, very tense. “I’ll go change and meet you there later?”

Honestly, Ivan knew at that point he could use a shower and some time alone, and perhaps yoga really would be just the thing he needed to relieve his tension and center him. He nodded and smiled, standing up. “I think I’ll go get a shower and change, yes. I’ll see you there, Cal.”

***

Ivan jogged to the group of people in the shaded alcove of trees, sarapes lining the grass and young people stretching and sitting crossed-legged, meditating quietly waiting for class to begin. A curly-haired fellow was at the front of the class, eyes closed as music gently wafted through the air. 

Being a little self-conscious, Ivan decided he’d do well to stay out of sight, and found himself a space at the back, settling himself in. He was wearing his Meyer Eye tee shirt and a pair of soft grey cotton gym shorts. He looked around, but didn’t see Cal just yet, and felt a slight pang of disappointment wondering if he’d be there. 

Cal had been called to a conference call, and was a little late, but he eased himself into the group, despite having never taken this particular class before, nor done yoga with anyone, he was sure this was going to be quite the experience. He had just a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt on and scooted in next to Ivan.

Ivan brightened seeing Cal join him. He nodded and smiled in lieu of speaking, as everyone was quiet and contemplative before the class started. The young man at the front of the class stood and smiled warmly, greeting the class.

“Welcome, everyone. Today we will be doing a slow, gentle flow yoga, to release tension, stretch our muscles, get blood flowing into extremities, and center and ground ourselves.” He stood and motioned with his hands for everyone to stand. “Let’s begin with a sun salutation, greet the day with gratefulness in our hearts for what the Light brings us.” The curly-haired man reached his hands from the center of his chest and up, gradually leading them to lean backwards. “Loosen your belly on the exhale. Open your heart, your core,” he said, and then had them bend forward at the waist to grasp their ankles. 

He led them through the series of poses which involved lunging forward on one leg, shifting into downward-facing dog, switching to lunge with the other leg, eventually rising back to the initial standing position, hands raised. “Light of love and guidance, we thank you for this day, for the strength and health in our bodies. Fill us with energy and ease,” he said, watching the class move through the positions as he executed them.    
  
Ivan felt a bit stiff at first, but found the movements quite relaxing yet invigorating. He leaned on long back leg powerfully, surprised at his own ability to do the stretches fairly well, so far. He couldn’t help but watch Cal out of the corner of his eye, who was far more flexible, far more able to bend and move with ease, as though he’d done this a few times before, albeit on his own. Cal smiled over at Ivan wistfully. 

Their eyes met briefly, and Ivan blushed in the moment, that familiar spark lighting him up inside. He quickly looked down, but as the class continued, Ivan felt his gaze shift towards Cal. Despite trying not to look, on downward dog he couldn't help himself, admiring the muscles flexing in his thighs, in his arms, his back. He lost track of his breathing for a moment, and found himself standing too quickly, feeling lightheaded. The priest stumbled backwards a step, but righted himself, crimson heat staining his cheekbones. He looked over and caught Cal looking at him again, and he blushed even more and looked away, averting his gaze to the young man leading the class instead.

The man had them move to the ground for floor exercises; lifting one leg over and stretching out hips, holding the position until it began to burn pleasantly. Ivan exhaled, trying to center his mind on his own body. When switching sides though, there was Cal, doing the same movements with incredible ease...and stunningly handsome. Ivan just breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling and struggling to stay focused on the exercises.

Cal had no issues with each move, practiced over the years, strong and lean, flexible where most might not be. Every muscle quivered in his body as he held it, eyes closed to concentrate on each and every move, effortlessly.

Time passed, and after several more strenuous positions, the teacher had them rest in child’s pose. Ivan felt a twinge in his neck...or was it simply an excuse to turn his head to Cal’s side? He opened his eyes just the slightest bit. This was quite a feat, trying to do yoga next to a man he was...growing so enamored with. Not as relaxing as the older man had hoped it would be.

When the teacher had them rise to standing again, Ivan placed his hands in front of his chest and the teacher finished with “Live in the Light”. The priest wiped a bit of sweat from his brow and turned to Cal, smiling brightly. Cal had a rosy glow to his cheeks, a dewy sheen of sweat covering him, and Ivan, now looking at him fully after an hour of furtive peeking, felt his stomach quiver.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” Ivan asked, leaning down to stretch his back one last time.

Cal was wiping sweat off his brow, nodding his head with a half grin planted on his boyish features, flushed and sweating. He regarded Ivan, panting a little; “Yes. Very revitalizing.”  

***

Later that night, again alone with his thoughts in bed, Ivan stared at the ceiling, plagued with an ache in his chest over his feelings about Cal. He had fostered a friendship - a bond - with him that he valued so deeply, but this attraction he felt went beyond that. So far beyond it. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears burning his eyes but not falling. He held so much inside, all the time. The priest rubbed the center of his chest, where the pain was centered, and looked at the Eye.

He couldn’t risk if he didn’t feel the same way, making things feel awkward between them, or worst of all risk losing the younger man’s trust. All of the unusual behavior Cal exhibited could be coincidence, could be something else. Ivan refused to let himself think it was anything more than that. The young man had precious few others to turn to, and needed him for support; the last thing he needed was to know there was this weakness Ivan had. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to pray away his feelings, pleading to the Light to make them go away. The priest felt so foolish, so alone, but more than anything, felt a hollow emptiness inside. This was what unburdening should be for, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to it. Not yet. He would simply try and deal with it himself. He turned his pillow over and tried to sleep.

***

The next day, Ivan avoided his morning visit to Cal, deciding to work in the garden instead. He felt it might help him to be alone, or at least, not with Cal for awhile. Of course, he wasn't alone; there were several young Meyersists working alongside him. Wearing jeans and a sweater, he knelt, working his hands into the cool soil, planting some cabbage and kale. 

He noted a pretty young woman, working the next row over and gradually making her way nearer to him. She had greyish-blue eyes, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, bangs in her face; innocent looking, but with an air of sadness about her Ivan could recognize unmistakably. He decided to strike up a conversation.

“Nothing so peaceful as working here like this, when the mornings are a little chilly, eh?”

She glanced up at him, seeming to be lost in thought and unaware of his presence. “Yes, it's very peaceful,” she answered quietly, smiling slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

“I'm Ivan. I'm 1R, new here. What's your name, dear?” he asked.

“Mary. I'm...I'm 2R.” Her eyes flickered over him again but she continued working steadily. It seemed like she didn't want to talk, but Ivan continued, eager for interaction with others there; he wanted to learn from them, get to know people. The priest smiled warmly at her, though noting she only looked at him through her long bangs, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Ahh, a relative newbie like me! How did you find your way here, Mary?”

She pulled a weed out of the ground with a gloved hand, sitting on the ground. Ivan couldn't help but notice how childlike she seemed. “I was in that tornado that hit Rindge. Cal and his people came to us, rescued a lot of us and brought us here. Gave us food water and shelter....I ended up staying.”

Ivan nodded. “He mentioned the tornado and rescue efforts. What made you decide to stay, Mary?”

She looked up at him. “I was an addict. They got me clean. And my...my Dad was...not good to me. I lived with him. I stayed here because I had nowhere else to go. I couldn't go back to him,” She said quietly, curious now. ”What about you? What brought you here? Your accent...” she trailed off, looking at him inquisitively.

Ivan chuckled. “I'm from Denmark. A catholic priest actually. I came here because I had a vision. God told me I needed to come here and spread the word of faith to lost souls. I happened to meet your leader, Cal, in a tea room, and he convinced me to come visit.” Ivan covered the seeds with soil and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I've been reading a lot. Much of the tenants of Meyerism align with my own beliefs. I think I was led to Cal and come here to the compound for a reason.”

Mary looked down. She seemed so pale and slight, tinier than she should have in an oversized sweater. “That's good,” she said a little flatly.

“I'm curious Mary, what do you think of this place? You said you stayed because you had nowhere else to go. Do you believe? In the Light, I mean.” Ivan sensed there was a lot boiling under the surface of this young lady.

She looked up at him finally, eyes darting around to see if anyone was near. “I-I-I'm still trying,” she whispered. “I met my husband here. We were just married a few months ago.” She took a spade and began working on another weed. “My life has improved greatly by being here. Sean is good to me, treats me like a princess, like I'm the only thing in the world that matters to him.”

“But...?”

Mary's gray blue eyes met his honey ones and she spoke slowly, carefully. “But, I'm not sure I belong here,” he said.

Ivan squatted nearer to her. “What makes you say that, dear?”

Mary stopped digging and sighed heavily. “I'm not like these people. I'm not good. My husband thinks I'm someone I'm not...” she drifted off, her voice trembling.

Ivan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Dear, whatever this is, we are here, as I understand, to support each other. I know we've only just met, but I believe in the inherent good in everyone. Whatever your story, you're not a bad person, Mary. Marriage is difficult, especially a new one. It sounds like you've been through so much.” He squeezed her arm and let go, resuming his work.

Mary sniffled, straightening herself and shot another glance at the priest. “I have, but I'm trying to get better and be a good wife. It's a struggle. Don't...don't think that just because you're here and everything is happy now, that it always will be. It's...it's not,” she said sadly.

Ivan looked up at her. “The Light will never give us more than we can handle, Mary. It will test us, give us challenges to overcome, but whatever you are going through right now, it will pass. And you have people here that care a great deal for you...starting with your husband. He sounds like a very good man.”

“He is a good man. Too good for me. I don't deserve him,” she said softly.

“Mary, listen to me. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness. Maybe we can pray together right now. Would you like that?” Ivan said warmly, extending his hand to her.

She looked up at him, eyes damp. “Yes, Ivan. Sure,” she said.

Ivan knelt closer to her and wrapped his big hand around her smaller one. “Light of truth, we come to you to express our gratitude for all that you do to keep us healthy and strong in mind and body. We praise you for the bountiful gifts you bestow on us everyday. I thank you for this kind young woman, your child Mary. You see all; there's nothing hidden from your eye, and you see her heart, everything she thinks is bad, but you also see the good. Bring her clarity, wisdom and peace. Encircle her with your love, given to us without condition, in mercy and grace. We honor you, Great Light, in giving us the strength and courage to face everyday and climb your Ladder. We know you seek to bring us to enlightenment, so we may share the hope, love and truth with others. Show us the way, illuminate our path.”

He squeezed her hand before giving her a hug. “You're not alone, Mary. You'll be ok.” he said as he released her and smiled kindly.

Mary looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Ivan. I can...I can see why you are here. You've made me feel better, and I'm a rung above you,” she giggled a bit girlishly before the smile faded away and she nodded her head, more serious. “You  _ were _ meant to be here, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan stood and grinned his broad, toothy, goofy smile, and offered a hand to help her to her feet. “You're more than welcome, dear child. This is what I do, it blesses me to help others.” Already Ivan felt a bit of weight lifted off his heart, rejuvenated in helping this young lady and spending some time in prayer. Ministering, this was what he felt best at, when he felt things would really be okay. Ivan knew more than ever he wanted to give testimony on Saturday.


	4. Chapter 4

In a matter of days, Ivan climbed easily into 2R, as Cal had predicted. Everyone had been so welcoming, already treating him like one of their own, and the priest felt very much at home, falling into a routine of visiting Cal at least once a day, working in the garden, and spending time in prayer.

He found himself praying more and more, in an attempt to wrestle with his desires and lustful feelings toward the younger man. They were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore with each passing day. In prayer, he eventually found himself thinking of his son and his wife, and become burdened with feelings of guilt again, like he hadn’t felt in years.

*****

Sarah Lane had caught up with him in the Gathering House one day, as he sat alone in communion with the Light. She was to assist him through 2R, and part of that was a guided meditation, a journey. Ivan recalled what Cal had told him of her own heartache, her separation  from her husband, but there was no indication of this when she came over to him. She seemed very much at peace, with an almost maternal energy about her.

“It’s time for us to begin your climb through the second rung, Ivan,” she said, touching his shoulder lightly and smiling at him. He couldn’t help but notice her aura reminded him of Mary, the Virgin Mother. He felt comforted by her presence, and found it much easier to master his thoughts. It was a far cry easier than the times he’d spent praying with Cal.

They sat on a sarape on the floor, facing each other, in front of the great stained-glass eye in the Gathering Hall. It was dark but for gentle, golden rays of mid-afternoon sun streaming through the Eye looming above. The door was secured so there could be no interruption.

Sarah held the priest's hands loosely. She spoke in a low, soothing tone.

“Just relax and breathe, Ivan. Open your mind's eye, in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Ivan inhaled and exhaled slowly, deliberately, and felt his shoulders lighten with the effort.

“We need to work through any existing damage, to make sure even if you think it's resolved, that nothing toxic still lurks in the recesses of your heart. It's the Light that shines in all the darkest corners, sees everything, Ivan. Nothing is hidden. I want you to look deep. Inhale slowly, hold it, release. You are in a safe space. There is no judgment here, only love. The Light seeks to heal and purify, not harm you.”

Ivan did as the woman said, and could feel the tension and frenetic pace of his mind slowing and melting away. Soon his thoughts cleared, and he could see himself standing alone in a white light, naked. He felt no shame, and simply stood there, feeling a certain warmth and purity; security.

“Focus on the center of your mind on your past, and this will be difficult, but I want you to access a painful memory. Something that has caused you grief, sadness, something you've locked away. Even if you feel you've dealt with it, sometimes we still hold onto pain because it holds a comforting familiarity for us. The Light knows this, and seeks for us to bring this pain out from the shadows so it can free us, loosen our chains. Only then can we progress and ascend further up the rungs.”

Ivan trembled and Sarah gently squeezed his hands.

“It's ok. Tell me what you see.”

“My wife. She's been crying, but now she looks just ...blank. Her eyes...they look at me, she smiles, she speaks to me, but her eyes are empty. I am worried for her.”

“You’re worried for her?”

“Because I love her and our son. Our son needs her. I need her,” Ivan said, his voice cracking. His chins dropped to his chest.

“Stay with me, Ivan. What is she doing now?”

“S-s-she's on the floor. She's not responsive. I'm shaking her, but she won't wake up. She's gone. She took the pills...she blames herself for our son’s disability. I blame..I blame myself.” Tears fell down his sharp cheekbones. Sarah held  his hands tighter.

“Allow the Light to guide you Ivan, look up, lift your eyes, listen, what do you hear?”

Several minutes went by, and Ivan's chest rose and fell slowly with deep breaths. He lifted his chin, eyes still shut tight. In his mind's eye, the blinding white light washed over his wife's body and covered her, and he saw his son, standing as an adult, at his present age, fully healed. Christoffer smiled at him, reaching to take his hand, and guided him from the room in his old home to a garden. Ivan heard a voice; it was his son’s and another, combining together in an echo.

“It's not your fault. No one is to blame. Let go of this pain, give it over to the Light, let your heart be free, knowing that in the Garden, once you have transcended this plane, all will be understood there and you will achieve total enlightenment. Have faith and believe what we cannot understand in the Now will be revealed at that time, and everything that happens here, good and bad, is but another stepping stone towards that purpose.”

Ivan's tears of pain turned into tears of joy seeing the pure love and happiness in Christoffer’s eyes. He felt a wholeness come over him in a way he'd never before felt in his life, as though he were completely enfolded in love and peace.

“Ivan, Ivan,” Sarah murmured softly. “Come back to me now. Breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth. I want you to focus back into your center, and walk back towards me, come back now.”

Ivan steadied his respiration, gradually becoming more aware of his body, and opened his eyes, damp from tears. He looked up into her face and smiled.

She squeezed his hand and beamed back at him, handing him a glass of water. “Easy now. Drink this. How do you feel?”

“Clean. Good.” he said, taking a sip of the water. “I feel good. Very...complete. I don't think even in prayer I've felt like this before.”

Sarah smiled. “This is what the Light does.”

*********

Saturday came sooner than Cal expected, and he scrambled to get something written, to have something in mind for his sermon. He’d spent so much time with Ivan, it had snuck up on him quickly. However, Cal was, if anything, resilient. 

He would wing it.

"Thank you all for coming. It's a joy to see each and every one of your faces on this beautiful Saturday morning," Cal said, looking around the room of their gathering house, familiar faces and a few new ones. Ivan was there, and Cal caught his gaze evenly, holding it longer than necessary. Cal moved about the stage, hands clasped together. "You all know by now my love for Plato," he chuckled, garnering a few other laughs that echoed the halls, "So, I'd like to quote him once more. "'We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light'."

Cal let that sink in.

"There are many ways we can interpret this. Is Plato speaking about men who do not want to see the daylight? Depression can take a hold of many of us, and it's so hard to overcome, but with The Light, we can prevail. The light in this instance, for me, and even for all of you, is our source of Truth. So many men are afraid of it. They don't want to face it, they want to turn a deaf ear to it. An ignorant Systemite. Ignorance can much easier to handle in our waking lives, but what happens when we ascend? When the end is here and that ignorance keeps you here while the rest of us get to live in the Garden together, forever?"

Cal took a breath, licking his lips. "Everyone here does their part to ensure the earth stays as beautiful as possible until that days comes where we're all saved, but until then... the more people we reach and pull out of their darkness and into the Light, the more that can be forgiven for having ever been afraid of the Light, too."

*****

As Ivan watched Cal speak, he found himself mesmerized. The younger man seemed to come alive, almost become a different person up on the stage. Confident, charismatic, inspiring. It was no wonder so many were flocking to this community.

Cal’s words rang in the priest’s ears - ’ _ the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light' _ \- and he couldn’t help but think of the Eye, and the secret he was harboring. Men that have something to hide are afraid of the light, like rats scurrying when you illuminate their habitations. His conscience plagued him, thinking of the consequences of continuing to conceal his true feelings surrounding the younger man. The time just wasn’t right though, and he was so afraid.  _ There’s no place for fear in the Light _ , he thought to himself, knowing he would need to face this all sooner rather than later. But he just couldn’t, not yet.

*****

Ivan stood to the side of the stage and waited to be introduced before stepping up and beginning to speak. He looked out over the hopeful faces; some looked tired, most happy and optimistic. But a few...a few looked lost, reluctant to be there. Ivan noted them, hoping his words might motivate and encourage them.

"You might be wondering today why you are listening to, of all people, a catholic priest with a funny accent. Who is this guy?” Ivan looked over at Cal with a self-deprecating grin, pointing to himself. “Well it’s no accident I'm here, my friends. I was sent to share my testimony with you.”

The older man’s face became serious. “Many of you are experiencing doubts right now. Trials, suffering, pain. We all do. I do, even now. It's simply a part of life. What matters is what we do with the doubts and pain when they arise. I'm here to tell you of my faith. I am walking, living proof of the existence of the Light, of God, of whatever name you ascribe to the higher power in control of this universe. It is very real.”

Ivan was used to standing stationary in his pulpit, but watching Cal speak, he was transfixed at how animated and charismatic he had been moving about the stage. It had clearly captured the attention of the people, and Ivan thought perhaps a more relaxed approach would work better, so he decided to mirror the technique. He walked across the stage and used his hands, expressively gesturing as he spoke, his thick accent punctuating the dialog.

“Entering this world was so traumatic, my mother died giving birth to me. I was raised with my brothers, by my abusive, alcoholic father. He was vicious with us. I left the house as quickly as I could and married. Soon after, I went into the priesthood. A short time later, my wife became pregnant, but our child was born disabled, afflicted with cerebral palsy. My wife blamed herself. She believed somehow God was punishing her for an unknown sin, cursing her, and when our son was four, she took her own life. I was left to raise Christoffer alone.”

Ivan looked down, rubbing his chin solemnly.

“Something broke inside me when she died. Something snapped. The culmination of all the tragedy and pain had taken it's toll, and I could no longer accept it. I began to live in a state of utter denial. I told people my son was perfectly healthy, that my wife's death had been an accident. For every problem that arose, I had an answer, to explain or deny reality. I was delusional to the point of sheer absurdity. People deemed me a simpleton, thought I was a lunatic. Looking back, I'd likely agree with them.”

“During this time, I opened my parish as a rehabilitation center of sorts for young men leaving the local prison. I would take them in, give them shelter, food, a job, a purpose. Lead them to faith, away from the path of sin, to God, hope and light. Some were successful, others not. One particular young man was named Adam. He was a Neo-Nazi. Hardened, bitter, jaded. He could not bear how optimistic I was, and sought to break my spirit. Adam became privy to my past, and used it to inflict great pain on me. The man beat me to the point of breaking my nose, but that was not the worst attack; he confronted me with everything I'd been hiding from; the truth of all the pain I'd been ignoring. Just as something snapped inside me the day my wife died, it snapped back that day with Adam. I began bleeding from my ears; I passed out. He brought me to the doctor, and it was discovered I had cancer: a tumor the size of a small grapefruit in my brain. I had weeks to live.”

Gasps could be heard softly rippling across the room. The priest paced back across the stage, hands clasped behind his back.

“At that point, I lost all hope. My mentality of denial had reversed to utter despair. How could one man be this cursed, suffer this much loss? I believed God had turned his back on me, and everything had not been a test to prove my faith, but that He sought to destroy me. I told my parishioners to take whatever goodness I had given them, and do their best with it.”

“On the day of my miracle, Adam's Neo-Nazi friends came to bring him back with them. I came out, urging them to leave me to die in peace and quiet. I attempted to disarm them, and in the struggle to take their weapons, one of the guns discharged and shot me in the head. Everyone was sure I was a goner. They took me to the hospital and said last rites, not expecting me to live another night. The next morning when Adam came, he found me gone from my bed, and went to ask the doctor where I was. He found the man packing his belongings. The doctor said he refused to work somewhere he was not needed, where a man shot in the head went to the garden for tea. All I remember is waking up and feeling well enough to do just that. Apparently the bullet shot the tumor clear out of my skull.”

Whispers and soft murmurs echoed throughout the crowd as Ivan began waving his hands around, looking various people in the eyes imploringly.

“So let me ask you friends, do you believe that was sheer coincidence? What are the odds of such surgical precision from an accidental shot like that? Slim to none. That was God. The Light. He has a purpose for me. The Light has a purpose for every one of you. A few years later, I was given a vision to come here and tell you of my story. That's what has brought me here today. I believe if only one person here today is brought to faith, to the Light, and is given the hope to seek it, then I have fulfilled my call.”

He finally stood center stage to wrap up, glancing over at Cal and nodding to let him know. The younger man stepped up to the side of the stage with a smile.

“We will encounter doubts, trials, difficulties. Things are not going to be easy, and you on the lower rungs should know that you face hardship, that the higher you progress the more challenging it's going to become. You _will_ falter, you _will_ doubt. Doubt does not equal failure, it does not equal denial. The critical component is, what you do with the doubt? Seek wisdom, seek guidance from the Light, from your elders, from those around you here to guide you. This is a tight-knit  community full of love and support, like I've never witnessed before, anywhere. You have every opportunity to find peace without fear, to express yourself and ask questions. God, the Light, does not turn his back on us because we ask why, in his infinite wisdom, does he test us, but I believe truly that every test, every rung, the higher we climb, the stronger we get. So open your hearts and minds to this universal truth, my friends. No matter the darkness we face, together we are are the light shining within that darkness.”

Ivan stepped off the stage, smiling and placing his hand over his heart humbly.

*****

“You really got through to them, they were all enthralled, even the 0Rs,” Cal said as he set dinner down on the table, a lovely vegetarian dish of quinoa and veggies, a sprinkling of tofu. Ivan spread a napkin out over his lap and looked hungrily at the delicious dinner Cal made. “You were amazing, yourself, Cal. I was so moved.” He poured some hot water from the kettle and smiled up at the younger man. “It’s clear these people love you and look to you, and rightly so. You have a great gift.”

Cal knew he had the ability to capture people, but he hardly thought it was gift, at least these days with people calling him something else completely. “Thank you,” he said, however, gratefully. He served up the dish for them both onto the plates.

“If even one person could be reached with what was said today, it would be worth it.” Ivan looked at his plate appreciatively. “Thank Cal, this looks delicious. I’m hungrier than I thought I was.” His eyes focused on Cal as he spoke. “I am sure it smells good too, but..” He tapped his nose and winked at the younger man playfully.

Grinning, Cal shook his head. “You are not missing out on much. I’m not a great cook,” Cal explained, though no one had complained yet, he was sure that was because no one wanted to front the truth to him.

“I’m sure that’s not at all true,” Ivan chuckled, though in all honesty, Cal could have served just about anything to the priest and he’d be swooning over it. He looked over at Cal as he sat down. “I’ve seen that you pray before meals...will you?” he asked, reaching for the younger man’s hand.

“Gladly,” Cal said, taking Ivan’s hand, feeling that electric jolt that was always there when their palms met. He cleared this throat; “Thank you for the gift of this bread, to sustain our vessels, our bodies, so that we may have the energy to create a more beautiful world, and break through our blocks and our barriers in this life, and ascend the Ladder of Enlightenment, so that someday we may be free of these earthly forms, and live as Light together in the Garden. We express deepest  gratitude for this day, and every day, for the gift of this passage, and that we have found the Ladder. There is one Spirit whose name is Truth.”

Ivan closed his eyes, and felt the energy flowing between them, from Cal’s hand to his. He wondered if Cal felt it too, but soon lost his train of thought, absorbed in the soothing cadence of the younger man’s voice as he prayed. Ivan swore he could listen to him talk for hours and never tire of it. As Cal finished, he squeezed his hand gently. Not knowing entirely what to say, he whispered, “Amen”.

Cal smiled and as their hands parted, the energy there abruptly stopped, but instead hung in the air between them, as if just waiting for one of them to notice and act on it. He picked up his fork and moved around his food to find the perfect bite. Ivan was unlike everyone else, all of whom Cal never ate around. Ivan was… different. “Do tell me honestly if it’s terrible.”

Ivan scooped up a forkful of quinoa and took a bite, moaning as soon as it hit his tongue. His eyes looked over Cal’s face, squinting in delight to express his appreciation. Swallowing, he gushed effusively. “Oh Cal, this is bursting with flavor... Has anyone said you’re a bad cook? I overheard Sarah’s brother in the dining hall the other day telling someone you make an amazing vegetarian lasagna. I’d love to taste yours sometime,” he said, smiling broadly at the younger man and taking another bite, shaking his head.

“I haven’t made it in some while. I might need some help,” Cal said, taking small bites into his mouth to not seem too eager, or famished. “Really? He said that?” Cal just assumed people said they liked it because they were being nice.

Ivan stared as Cal ate; he didn’t intend to, but watching the food pass between his tempting lips was having a significant effect on the priest. He almost forgot to chew, pausing while his eyes remained fixed on Cal’s mouth. “Yes, he definitely said that,” Ivan murmured distractedly. Noticing Cal’s blue gaze flicker up to him, he looked down shyly and finally took another bite himself. “You don’t need help at all, though if you do, I’m always willing to be your sous-chef,” he grinned, taking a sip of tea.

That’s what Cal meant after all, having someone to help him, meant company and not being alone, and honestly, a reason to have Ivan over. “I’d enjoy the company and the help.”

Ivan examined his food and smiled. “We’ll need to do it, then. Together. We’ll make dinner, maybe tomorrow?” Cal couldn’t possibly...he fought the thought back. He was being friendly. They were friends. That’s all. Still his cheeks colored at the thought.

“I’d love to, Ivan,” Cal said, curtly, but tried to hide a bashful grin that spread across his face along with a pink hue that colored from his neck to his ears. “I’ll be sure to make sure the kitchen has everything we need.”

***

Though they’d hardly been apart for long since the day before, Ivan was looking forward to preparing a meal with Cal. Doing something active, making something together with him meant spending more time, and he seemed to be unable to get  _ enough _ time with his dear, handsome friend. He walked up to Cal’s door carrying a basket of fresh vegetables he’d picked working in the garden earlier that day. The priest knocked on Cal’s door cheerfully.

The door opened and Cal beckoned Ivan inside, the door shutting gently behind him. Cal had all the things they would need to make the lasagna, completely vegan of course, along with vegan made ‘cheeses’. He hoped Ivan would not be too disappointed in it.

“At last my friend, I get to see the magic of how you make this dish everyone is raving about,” Ivan said exuberantly, grinning and walking right into the kitchen, setting down the basket. He turned around and saw all the ingredients laid on the counter, and rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands. ”I brought some fresh vegetables from the garden, though it looks like you have everything we need already,” he smiled over at Cal.

“Fresh is perfect,” Cal said, looking at what Ivan brought. “Sliced thin, we can set them over each layer. Or, instead of the pasta layer, we could do the slices of vegetables, it’d be more ratatouille with ‘cheese’ at that point, but…” He shrugged, “same premise. Kind of.”

Drying his hands on a kitchen towel, Ivan moved closer to Cal, coming up behind him. “I love the idea of thinly sliced vegetables. I’ve done quite a bit of cooking, actually. Used to do it for the boys at the parish.” He grinned and loomed over the shorter man. “Well, you can put me to work. I’m at your disposal.”

Cal looked over his shoulder at Ivan with a little nervous smile, brows raised at the priest’s words. “Maybe we’ll do both, we have enough ingredients.” Cal set out a cutting board and sharp chopping nice and put Ivan’s veggies in the sink to wash once before use, to get the dirt off.

Ivan moved back to the sink, bumping into Cal unintentionally, but the brief contact was enough to send his heart racing. He cleared his throat and began scrubbing the vegetables, setting them aside on the counter as he cleaned them.  Cal stepped aside to let Ivan in to do as he wished.

Wanting to talk about something to calm the pounding in his chest, he began talking rapidly about his training: “I’m so eager to get to 4R, you know I feel it’s right around the corner for me. I -am- taking my time, but I haven’t been this excited about anything in awhile. The Light has lifted burdens I didn’t know I was still carrying, you know? It’s miraculous.”

Cal wished he could say the same, but he was still plagued with his own, but happy to see Ivan had found light and peace. That was what was important. “You’ve unburdened. It’s an amazing feeling isn’t it?”

He set out two dishes, lining them with parchment, and then started to layer homemade tomato sauce in the bottom of both.

Ivan was struck from his nervousness with another pang of guilt. No, he hadn’t unburdened. Not entirely. He frowned and tried to concentrate on chopping some onions. He peeled the outer layer away and ran it under cold water, before taking the sharp knife in his hand. The older man cut the vegetable in half and began dicing. “Yes, it’s a great feeling,” he said, trying to make himself sound as cheerful as he had sounded a moment earlier.

Cal was not an empathetic sort, however he knew people well enough. “Was there something else? I'm here if you feel more able to unburden with me than Sarah.” actually, Cal might just pride himself on that if Ivan did.

Ivan risked a look over at the younger man. He hadn’t even considered talking to Sarah, but she did seem very sympathetic and understanding during 2R. He wondered what her reaction would be, if she’d hold his confidence. He thought, perhaps, he could trust her enough to unburden. But, he knew he wouldn’t be able to tell Cal if he went to her; it would likely hurt his feelings, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

His cheeks flushed; even now as he looked at Cal, the blue of his button-down shirt made his eyes especially vivid. The peek of sun-kissed skin at his collar, where he had one too many buttons loosened, exposed his collarbone and showcased his long neck. The muscles of his chest seemed to strain against the shirt, and on more than one occasion, Ivan could see his nipples poking through the fabric. It made the priest’s blood run hot, made his heart thrum loudly in his chest, so much so, he no longer knew if he was any good at concealing it.

He struggled in thought, wondering what he could say to explain his mood shift, what excuse he could devise, how could he change the subject without arousing suspicion or worse yet, making Cal believe he was indeed keeping something from him.

“When people ‘unburden’ to you or anyone, is it kept in confidence? In confession, when someone comes to me, it is something held as between us and God.”

“Of course,” Cal answered, quickly, setting down pre boiled noodles into one dish, evenly, perfect. “I would never tell someone else anything you’ve unburdened.”

Ivan scooped the chopped onions into a bowl near Cal and rinsed off a few tomatoes to dice. He sighed heavily and decided to go with an incomplete unburdening. Perhaps Cal might have some good insights for him, something to help. He sighed a little. “I’ve been having hmmm,” he paused, finding it difficult to even say it out loud. “I’ve been having lustful feelings about someone here in the compound,” he finally said, careful not to look at Cal as he spoke, eyes focused on the task at hand, his knife slicing through the flesh of the vegetable beneath his hands. “It’s… I haven’t had these kind of thoughts in some time.”

Cal took pause for a moment to look over at Ivan. “I won’t ask who,” he said quickly, hoping that it wasn’t anyone else  _ but _ him, however he didn’t want to assume either. “Do you feel it’s impure to have these thoughts?”

“I-I-I’d rather not say who,” Ivan stammered, a tawny rose rising over his cheekbones. He looked away toward the sink hoping Cal wouldn’t notice. “I don’t think God...or the Light, would give us more than we can handle, and we  _ are _ fearfully and wonderfully made as the Bible says. However, it makes things a challenge when I’m interacting with this person. I feel, yes, impure. They seem to be worse at night, when I’m trying to fall asleep. I’ve communed with the Light seeking peace. The thoughts seem to...persist. I’m not sure what else I can do.” He pushed some diced tomatoes into the bowl, piling them up with his hands, the juice dripping over his thick fingers.

Cal watched Ivan carefully, an almost deadpan look on his face as he considered everything Ivan said. “Does this person feel the same toward you? Do you think?” he asked, and poured more tofu crumbled sauce over the layer of pasta in his dish, and then the vegan cheese base that looked like ricotta was wasn’t.

The older man shook his head. “No. I highly doubt it. I’m not the sort this person would be interested in,” he said a little sadly. “And that’s alright. I can’t act on it; even if I’m new here, I’m still a priest. The obligation is mine to keep it to myself, exercise restraint,” he finished, putting all the tomatoes in the bowl and moving to the sink to rinse his hands, the cutting board and knife.

“And if this person  _ were _ interested?” Cal asked, putting on another layer of pasta, glancing over at Ivan, expectantly.

Ivan looked over at Cal, startled, but, he couldn’t possibly know the priest was thinking of him. He had sensed something between them, but Ivan assumed it was all in his head. Thinking Cal would be interested was something he continually pushed out of his mind so much, he refused to even contemplate it now. His lips parted as though he were about to speak, and then he closed his mouth quickly, weighing his words before he spoke. “It’s unlikely, but if they did, I don’t even know what I would do, honestly. I..uhh…” he blushed deeper. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Well, since my wife. Not only that, I don’t...I don’t know how the movement looks on things like that.” And to make it more complicated, Ivan was certain these were not simply  _ just  _ lustful feelings.

“Like ‘that’? Cal questioned, and kept layers the lasagna with cheese and sauce and more pasta. “Oh.” He knew of course if Ivan meant  _ him _ then of course he might wonder. “How does your religion look on things like  _ that _ ?”

Ivan didn’t even dare broach the issue of homosexuality, not wanting Cal to remotely suspect this was about him. “Most of the church frowns on premarital sex. I, however, don’t really think God judges us as harshly as some of my fellow priests do,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel and   leaning back against the counter. “He gives us desires for a reason. If it’s not abused, doesn’t become a matter of promiscuity, or keep us from our duty to Him, I believe God is merciful to us, knowing we are human.”

Cal’s face fell at the mention of just ‘premarital’ sex, nothing more, and perhaps he’d been wrong. Ivan had been friendly with a number of people, men and women alike. “That’s true. The Light does not discriminate, and though we enforce marriage and families, so long as the two are of age, we don’t look down on it.”

Oblivious to Cal’s change in mood, Ivan filled the kettle and set it on the stove to boil. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on this too,” he nodded. “I still feel, though, that the onus is on me to not act upon these feelings. But perhaps...perhaps I should have as much mercy on myself as the Light would,” he said, taking a couple of mugs down and turning to Cal.

“Yes, perhaps,” Cal said, distractedly, and set the first lasagna into the oven and started on the one without noodles, slicing the other veggies thin and wide like noodles.

Ivan opened the cupboards again and pulled down the loose leaf tea and infusers. He placed some of the tea in each little ball and dropped them into the mugs. He watched Cal slicing the vegetables and then moved nearer, picking up a zucchini and beginning to cut. “I think you’ll need a bit more,” he said and began slicing as Cal was. “Did you know that you’re not supposed to steep green tea in boiling water? It brews best if it’s just below boiling,” he said, trying to do anything he could to get his mind off this dilemma with Cal.

“I didn’t,” Cal admitted, laying out the perfectly sliced veggies into the pan and topped with more of the sauce and cheese, and then more veggies. “I should have, maybe.”

Ivan stopped his work, moving the pile of vegetables near to Cal so he could use them. Rinsing and drying his hands again, he touched Cal’s shoulder. “Forgive me for being so...awkward,” he said sheepishly. “And thank you for not judging me.”

“You’re not awkward,” Cal said, without hesitation and continued to build the second lasagna, despite the fact that there was clearly too much food for the two of them.

Ivan’s eyes wandered over Cal; he was focused on the food and not the priest at the moment, and he indulged in staring a little too long. “It looks delicious. I am sure it’s going to taste absolutely amazing,” he murmured, not looking at the lasagna at all.

“We have two different kinds,” Cal chuckled, and slipped that one into the oven now as they both cooked. “We might have to share some with others…”

“Well, there’s no shortage of fans of yours that would certainly love some if given the chance,” Ivan said, again not remotely talking about the lasagna. Of course he’d seen the way some of the young people looked at the handsome young leader. He moved the whistling teapot off the stove and poured the bubbling liquid into their mugs.

“It’s not that good,” Cal said, seemingly not to understand what Ivan mean, but he maybe he did deep down, and either way, the answer still stood. Cal was a broken piece of machinery, and those who did want him didn’t understand that or understood too well.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Ivan said with a grin, leaning down to look in the oven. “How long until it’s ready?” he said, straightening and sitting at the table with his tea. He set Cal’s mug down in front of his seat.

“About forty minutes, the first should be done before that, we put it in ten minutes prior,” Cal explained, letting Ivan lean, which gave the leader a nice look at his ass… not that Cal was looking.

Oh, who was he kidding.

Once Ivan sat, Cal moved over to sit too, averting his eyes completely.

Ivan wrapped his large hands around his mug, though he didn’t need any  _ more  _ heat, really. He watched as Cal swallowed when he sat, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down that long neck.  _ “I really need to get ahold of myself, _ ” he thought to himself, gripping the mug tighter though it burned his hands.

Cal took up his own mug and let the silence fill room for them.

Ivan sat in the silence, sipping his tea, his mind working overtime about everything they’d discussed. If Cal were interested, what would he even do? He couldn’t fathom it. His eyes flickered up and over Cal’s face again.

“Which rung do you think you’ll guide me through?” He asked suddenly.  He wondered what would be involved, and if Cal would lead him. He really hoped he would, though the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what would happen made his stomach tense slightly.

“I’m qualified to help anywhere, I’m proficient in 7R, but could lead you through 6R, if I’m able to go to Peru at the time,” Cal answered, good at keeping his disappointment level, off his face and out of his eyes. He smiled over at Ivan.

Ivan returned the smile. “I hope you can. I’d love to travel there with you,” he said hopefully. “Though I don’t think there’s anyone here I would trust as much as you to do so. I know it gets even harder the higher you climb,” Ivan said, rubbing his jaw and realizing too late what he said could be taken as a double entendre. He blushed bright red and attempted to cover it by taking a large gulp of his tea, covering his face with the mug.

“It will take up a lot of your time, but it’s  _ so _ worth it if you are really dedicated to the Light and our teachings,” Cal said, adding just a bit of agave into his herbal tea, more for something to do with his hands.

Ivan got up and poured more hot water into his mug, setting the infuser back inside to get another cup out of the leaves. “I’m dedicated, Cal. I’m very willing to put in the time. I think you know I’m authentically interested by now.” How interested though, and in what, Cal didn’t know, at least as far as Ivan could tell. He hoped he’d been discreet but there was still a small amount of doubt in his mind. Ivan checked the oven. “The first one is looking close to ready.”

Cal got up and grabbed the pot holders, and then bent to open the oven and pull the first lasagna out. It was bubbling and hot-- perfect. “Have to let it sit for a moment.”

Ivan was just sitting back down when Cal got up to look in the oven, and landed heavily in the seat as Cal bent over. He found himself staring helplessly at a perfect ass that made him burn in places he shouldn’t, not here and now. He tore his eyes away just as Cal turned back towards him, staring down at his hands and looking guilty. “Yes, let it cool off, absolutely,” he said a bit out of breath. Not that he was referring to the food.

Cal set it down and then wandered over to Ivan, placing his hands on his shoulder, feeling his tension. “Are you alright, Ivan?” He canted his head, glancing down at the older man.

The feel of hot, burning hands on his shoulders made an unconscious, unintended moan escape the priest’s lips.  _ Why, why why, _ he asked himself as his bronzed cheekbones darkened and his breathing became tellingly irregular. He licked his lips slowly and swallowed. “I'm fine, just hungry,” he said weakly.  _ Light be with me _ , he silently prayed.

Letting one hand dip just a bit lower, Cal patted Ivan’s chest twice before he moved away completely, and got down two plates. He cut the lasagna and pulled the other out of the oven. He plated their dishes unceremoniously, and brought them to the table. He set a fork down next to Ivan’s plate.

“Do you know the blessing yet?”

Ivan’s heart beat as fast as a rabbit’s as Cal’s hand descended down his chest, and he felt light-headed, yet as soon as the younger man’s hand was gone, he felt its absence almost painfully. “I...I don’t think I have it memorized just yet,” Ivan stuttered. He tried focusing on the delicious-looking food, but it wasn’t helping much at all.

“That’s alright,” Cal said, reaching across to take Ivan hand as he repeated the blessing once again, even if it was just them, it was nice to keep to traditions. Once finished, he squeezed Ivan’s hand once and then let go, taking up his fork.

Ivan did his best to compose himself as he sat palm to palm, feeling those strong, slender fingers, rough with labor yet still so elegant. When the prayer ended, he didn't want to let go of Cal's hand. He squeezed back, trying and failing not to gaze wistfully into those sea-blue eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly as he released the younger man's hand reluctantly.

He picked up his fork and took a bite of the dish. Blowing on it with pursed lips, he took a bite and immediately sighed in bliss. “They weren't kidding,” he said after he swallowed. “This is heavenly, Cal.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Cal mused with a smile, and then did the same with his own bite, and then placed it into his mouth carefully, still quite hot.

Watching Cal eat seemed almost obscene to Ivan, something he shouldn’t stare at, but stare he did. He almost missed his own mouth making the journey from plate to face, and his forkful of hot food pricked his cheek. He quickly set down the utensil and wiped his lips with a napkin, chuckling at himself. “I’m new at this,” he joked, trying to keep his eyes on his plate.

Cal just chuckled, and handed Ivan another napkin in case he needed it. “Just a hole in your lip,” he said, realizing that was something his mother used to say to him, and he clamped his mouth tight at that.

“Thank you,” the priest said graciously, glad for the joke and missing Cal’s reaction afterwards, dabbing the cloth along his chin to make sure he was clean. “Did I get it all?” he asked, laughing a little more.

“Yes, you’re fine,” Cal managed, more of rough whisper than anything else, and then went back to poking around his food, trying to get enough ‘cheese’ to ‘meat’ and pasta ratio.

Ivan went back to eating exuberantly, the tension in his belly slightly easing after his faux pas. It was just distracting enough to allow him to get some food down. He shovelled down a generous portion and smiled with closed lips at Cal as he ate. Unfortunately, as soon as his eyes fell to focus upon Cal’s lips chewing slowly, he felt the same burning in his belly all over again, but this time, he didn’t look away.

Cal watched Ivan eat, as he himself ate slowly, tenderly picking out eat bite carefully. Their eyes met for more than a second, it felt like minutes, maybe even hours, and Cal wanted nothing more than to hop over that table and kiss Ivan senseless. He’d never felt this way for a man before, but there was something about Ivan… If only Ivan felt the same.

Ivan's hooded stare was met with one equally intense from Cal, and the older man was trapped, unable to avert his gaze. He continued to eat, masticating the flavorful, rich pasta even as his respiration grew deeper. All he could think about was pushing Cal against the wall and finally

tasting him. He struggled to compose himself, but he could feel his flesh twitching against his thigh, his senses heightened by his arousal. The priest pulled his chair in closer to the table, under the guise of reaching for his teacup. He took a swallow, looking again at Cal as he did, the hot fluid running down his throat; a little too hot, but at this point he couldn't care. He licked the burning drops of liquid from his lips and continued eating, looking down finally in some surprise that he'd cleaned his plate.

“Would you like some more?” Cal asked, eyeing Ivan’s now empty plate, still working on his own portion, but he’d be happy to go get another helping for the priest.

“I’m full at the moment, but thank you,” Ivan smiled, rubbing his belly. “They say it takes 20 minutes for your stomach to tell your brain it’s really full. Best to wait and not indulge too much. More leftovers for the others, and they’ll certainly love it.” And he really didn’t want Cal to get up and notice anything ‘unusual’ in Ivan’s lap. “I still have tea,” he said, taking a sip for emphasis.

Cal nodded and averted his eyes this time and kept eating, slowly, and when he was finally finished, he grabbed his plate and Ivan’s, taking them to the sink to rinse off and put into the dishwasher.

Momentarily calmer, Ivan got up to use the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” he said, shuffling down the hall quickly. In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face.  _ It’ll be fine _ , he thought. _ Just gotta make it through the rest of the evening. _ Without getting aroused again.  _ You can do this, Ivan, _ he thought and smiled at his reflection in the mirror before walking back out to the kitchen.

“Are you sure--” Cal started to say but then watched Ivan disappearing into the bathroom, and he shut his mouth and went about prepping the lasagnas to be kept for leftovers.

Ivan poured more water from the kettle into his mug and sat down. “Do you have any lemon ginger tea? That would be nice after that big amazing meal. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, but one more cup perhaps...” Ivan said, feeling more himself and together.

“I might have ginger, we can add lemon,” Cal offered, shuffling through his loose leaf teas in the cabinet.

Cal’s shirt rode up as he reached for the cabinet, revealing a sliver of tanned, toned abdomen. Ivan wiped a hand over his face. “That would be great.,” he said distractedly.  _ What would it be like to touch those abs,  _ Ivan thought to himself. Just touch, only feel them under his hands.

The movement leader grabbed what he needed and fished out enough ginger tea for Ivan, and put it into a new mug for him, and set the stove on again for more hot water. “It’ll be a bit.”

Ivan surveyed the younger man, standing there by the stove, looking a little awkward, yet no less handsome. He wondered to himself how it was possible the girls weren't lining up at his doorstep. 

Ivan started talking before he knew what he was saying. “Really, no young lady has ever tried to take your attentions?” he said out of nowhere.  

“Sarah picked someone else,” Cal said, matter of factly, looking at the tea kettle and then over at Ivan. “There was Mary… but she deserved better after everything she had been through.”

Ivan blinked in surprise. Sarah didn’t seem unlikely, but he’d spent quite a bit of time side by side working with Mary. She seemed very fragile. The man she’d married seemed perfectly suited to her, a strong young man with high Ideals, though she continually thought she wasn’t good enough. But it still surprised him, and he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought. “I think anyone would be lucky to have you, but I understand both ladies are married now, so…” he trailed off.  _ Oh God, save me, did I say too much? _ he worried to himself.

Cal sighed, heavily, he didn’t need reminders of failures, or reasons why he gave up certain things he’d wanted. Even Ivan deserved better than Cal, not that he had a chance anyway. “Finding a healthy and perfect fit is all we can hope to accomplish in this life.”

The priest sighed in slight relief as he noticed Cal completely missed his compliment. “It’s a rare gift when one finds their other half. Maybe a once in a lifetime thing. But God, the Light, has the perfect plan for all of us,” he said quietly, avoiding Cal’s penetrating eyes and glancing over at the kettle as it began to whistle.

Out of habit, Cal tended to ignore compliments, too used to them from his mother, and she definitely never meant them. “You had yours at some point then. I’m starting to wondering if mine is meant to be done alone.”

Ivan’s heart ached and pounded in his chest. It was all he could do not to pull Cal into his arms and kiss him right then and there. Crimson crept up his neck, and he shook his head from side to side slowly. “No, there’s someone for you. The Light would not have us journey alone. Perhaps not now, but someday. For..for both of us,” he stammered at the end, his honesty once again getting the better of him. It was harder and harder not to simply say what he meant, but still he tried. He couldn’t dare think Cal would ever want someone like him.

Cal scoffed under his breath and pulled the kettle off, and poured it into the mug for Ivan and then set it down again. He walked the cup over to the priest and set it down. “Some people journey this world alone. Nothing wrong with solitude,” he said, sadly.

Noting the sadness on his face, Ivan protested in his typically animated way. “No, there’s nothing  _ wrong _ with it, but it doesn’t mean it’s true for you. Maybe now isn’t the time. Besides being in a position of power as you are, it won’t come easily. Hard to know if someone is simply trying to take advantage of you.”

Sighing, Cal sat down across from Ivan, but his eyes never met the priest’s own amber ones, shaking his head a little, letting his gaze flit across the table. “That’s why alone is better, Ivan. Can’t risk more ache. Not many people want to deal with the…” he balled his hands into fist and then spread them, achingly, “this. Me. Whatever _ I  _ am.”

Ivan looked up at Cal. He impulsively reached across the table for his hand. “I can't let you say this, Cal. There's nothing wrong with you. Your heart and spirit, I see you. Whatever...whatever reason you have for thinking this way, it's not true, you just can't see it.” The priest actively tried to pick up the younger man's gaze, dipping his chin to seek eye contact. “I know when someone is hurting. You...you don't have to tell me, but I see the...the pain. You're not alone. There's nothing wrong with you, my precious friend. You have a right to feel this way, but I'm telling you...the Light has special plans for you.” he entreated in a quiet voice. It was one place Ivan knew he worked well, comforting and advising people, and he knew Cal needed it.  

Cal’s breathing wavered a moment as Ivan’s hand touched his own, and he looked up into his eyes, more than ever just aware of how attracted he was to him, not just physically, but everything. It made him feel even worse to think that while having thoughts about how horrible his mother was. “Oh, I know The Light does, but maybe it was meant to be alone. I’ve been told before I’m not capable of real love.”

“Whoever told you that has serious problems, is probably projecting on you. How can anyone say you don't have the capacity for real love? You are human, we all do, it's simply not true.” He continued holding Cal's hand, letting his palm rest against Cal's, feeling the light pulse as his fingertips grazed the younger man's wrist. He found himself gently stroking there, soothingly. “Cal, the person that told you that wasn't right. I don't believe it.”

Not willing to say, Cal merely let Ivan keep talking. This had gotten serious too fast in a direction Cal wasn’t willing to go right now.  He tended to ruin most things he touched, and slowly waited to see if Ivan would be ruined too, if he would see past it all and walk out. “Maybe.”

Ivan released his hand reluctantly, realizing he’d been holding it longer than might be appropriate. He was always a bit touchy-feely with people and not everyone liked it. Sensing the discomfort in Cal, he withdrew his arms from across the table and sighed. “One day you’ll believe it. You’ll see what I do.” He picked up his mug, testing with a small sip to see if it cooled enough. It was perfect, and he took another swig.

Cal brought his hands into his own lap, nearly sitting on them as he hunched over, nodding his understanding as Ivan spoke. “I hope as much.”

Hoping to lighten the mood, Ivan changed the subject and drank more tea. “I’ve been working in the garden a lot. Really enjoying it. You should join me, perhaps tomorrow?” he smiled.

Having done his fair share of gardening, Cal nodded. He could use the distraction. “I’d really enjoy that, Ivan.”

The priest found himself once more that night staring with lips slightly parted at Cal’s face, lost in it’s beauty and his burgeoning feelings boiling dangerously close to the surface. Being in his home,

so close, didn’t help calm him, not in that respect. “It’s getting late, perhaps I should head home soon,” he said, not at all eager to leave but also feeling he needed some time alone in prayer. He’d let his thoughts run far too wild over the last few hours and he needed the safety of his bungalow to sort it out.

Cal nodded, thoughtfully. “Would you like one of the pans of lasagna to take with you?”

“I won’t refuse it, that’s for sure,” Ivan beamed. “I’ll take some with me tomorrow for the kids for our lunch. I’m sure they’ll love it.”

“Perfect,” Cal said, and stood, giving himself something to do, he went to pack up the leftovers from the pan they hadn’t touched, setting the plastic lid over the pan that it had come with. Cooled enough now, he handed it over to Ivan.

“Thank you,” Ivan said, before setting the dish down on the counter and moving closer to Cal. He pulled him into a big bear hug and rubbed his back before releasing him. “Thank you for your hospitality...and your friendship,” he said with a soft smile.

Surprised, Cal barely had a moment to react before Ivan pulled back, leaving the movement leader speechless and flustered. “Uh, yeah. Of course. It’s always nice to have you over for any reason, Ivan.”

Ivan picked up the pan and turned for the door, stepping out into the cool night.

*****

As Ivan walked back to his bungalow from Cal's house in the dark, he knew he'd need a cold shower and extra time in prayer. Finally getting in the door, he sagged against it weakly, running his hand down between his legs and squeezing the burning, hard bulge between his thighs. He shook his head and quickly stripped down, climbing in the shower. Turning the water full blast on cold barely did anything to cool him off, but it helped a bit.

Toweling off, he climbed into bed naked and noticed his phone blinking with a new message from Cal.

He felt himself swelling anew knowing Cal was thinking of him and texted, even if it was innocent.

He send a quick message back, assuring him he’d gotten home safely, of course.

His heart fluttered like a girl in love and he scolded himself before finally, desperately giving in and wrapping his hand around his growing flesh. He only had to entertain the memories of Cal's hands on him, the way he looked bending over, the way he licked his lips and sometimes even blushed, and Ivan was exploding, painting his abdomen and chest with ropes of white come. He grabbed   the tee shirt he'd been wearing to clean himself up, panting in relief and tossing it to the floor. Ivan turned over, looking at his phone once more before falling asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Ivan worked in the garden every day, and enjoyed spending time with the young people there. He'd grown to have a fatherly affection for most of them. One of the kids, a young lady named Emily, had come to him often with questions, asking advice on her problematic relationship with her parents, particularly her father. He frowned upon her joining the movement, and though she was nineteen, and could certainly legally make her own choice to be there, he’d made life very difficult for her. She’d been cut off from them financially, and the man didn’t allow her to speak to her mother. He was an ignorant systemite, and as cruel as he’d been, she was distressed at the idea of him and her mother being left to suffer when The Future came.

“There are some who simply refuse to accept the truth, and the Light,” the priest said, pulling carrots from the earth and setting them in their basket. “We can’t give up hope, but at the same time, you can’t let this interfere with your progress up the Ladder. All we can do for them is pray to the Light. If they won’t speak to you, you can’t force it. The Light hears us. If it’s His will, they may yet come around,” he said, smiling at her troubled face.

Emily nodded and tried to smile, eyes downcast before finally looking back up at the priest. Seeing his face glow with warmth and affection, she brightened and peace seemed to wash over her complexion. “You make me feel...better,” she admitted. “More hopeful. Like you could be right. I- I think you  _ are  _ right.”

“I've never had a daughter, but if I did, I'd be proud if she were like you,” he said as they finished up the day, and she beamed up at him. It seemed to take so little kindness to help her feel better; she soaked it up like a sponge.

He suddenly reached out to embrace her, and she fell into his arms, her eyes damp with tears forming. “If my father were half the man you are, I'd count myself the luckiest girl in the world,” she whispered as he held her. The poor girl trembled and he rubbed her back.

“It's ok. You know, Emily, you're safe and loved here.”

“I know,” she said pulling away from him and wiping her eyes with a smile. “I'm grateful. And I'm glad the Light brought you to us.”  

***

From a distance, Cal had caught the tail end of the conversation, the friendly way they embraced and looked comfortable. Maybe he’d read Ivan  _ all _ wrong. Cal had planned to sit Ivan down today while they were gardening and tell him exactly how he felt. He had to unburden, and not he wasn’t sure it was the best choice. Ivan deserved happiness, not Cal and his fucked up past.

Turning on his heel, Cal headed back to his bungalow, and locked himself in. He dug around his heater vent, and then remembered he’d drank that stash. He got his feet and unlocked the desk, but Sarah had taken that one, and they drank it together months and months ago. Finally, he remembered the one in the safe behind the Eye. He tugged it down and unlocked the safe, and pulled out the whiskey.

Cal didn’t bother with a glass. He’d drown himself in the amber liquid and hope for … Well anything but the agonizing pain he felt now.

An hour in, his phone lit up with a text from Ivan, and Cal simply turned his phone off.

*****

Ivan was finishing up his day and texted Cal, hoping to meet with him. He frowned and looked across the compound towards Cal’s home, but decided to go home and shower. Perhaps there was a reason for him not responding. He could be in a session with someone. 

Ivan got home and began to make himself dinner, lost in thought. As Cal had predicted, the priest was now in 4R. He used the M Meter regularly, learned what “realignment” meant and what it was used for, and absorbed with rapt attention more details about “The Future” and “The Garden”. To him, these were really just different names for many of the things he'd done, and knew, all his life; Prayer, meditation, confession, and seeking counsel and wisdom from elders. The Future and The Garden seemed so similar to the end times, and the kingdom of heaven, he saw no difference.

Ivan still found The Ladder to be a mystery, and he knew that was something with more complex truths that he might not be able to grasp until he reached the higher rungs, perhaps not even until he went to Peru, hopefully with Cal. He looked forward to that.

Ivan grilled vegetables from the garden on his small stove, and pondered his relationship with Cal. He felt his bond with the young man had become deeper. The tension between them had increased as well, and he realized more and more that he had developed intense feelings for the younger man. He was in love with Cal, and as much as he tried fighting it and denying it, it had become too real to ignore.

The only person he'd ever been with physically was his wife; they had waited until marriage. He had sexual feelings of course; he was only human. He'd felt them for others since his wife passed, but he was a man of the cloth, held to a higher standard. He never acted on them. He was not unaware he'd found himself attracted to men as well as women, and he'd confessed and done his penance to God when he'd had these lustful thoughts, but the truth was, Ivan felt as long as he was honest before God, he felt God forgave him. As he’d told Cal, he believed God wouldn't give man desires like these without having the mercy and grace of forgiveness, as long as he confessed and was a good man, faithful in his work and service to him.

These feelings for Cal had been conflicted, however, because he not only felt this attraction, but also a deep emotional connection. It was companionship and intimacy on a mental and emotional level that Ivan had never felt with anyone before.

He plated his food and sat alone at his table, suddenly feeling hollow and lonely. It seemed strange to eat alone. He checked his phone impulsively, texting once more. Nothing.

The evening passed, and Ivan knelt by his bedside. He wiped a hand across his face in exhaustion and worry. Cal had never responded, and Ivan’s heart actually hurt from missing him. How he’d grown so used to the younger man’s company; how the absence of it left him bereft.

Ivan realized, looking up at the Eye and praying for clarity, that the conflict he’d been struggling with was fear about losing this friendship they’d built. But as he looked into the Light, it spoke to him. He knew he needed to confess - unburden - to Cal, and hope he wouldn't lose the young man's confidence and trust over the truth.

He crawled under the covers, closing his eyes to try to sleep, but only tossed and turned restlessly.

After what felt like hours, Ivan blinked over at the clock on his nightstand. One in the morning. He couldn’t sleep. He decided to go for a walk, try to relieve the tension in his body with exercise, knowing at this hour no one would be up to see him or ask him anything.

As he walked across the compound in a slight daze, he realized suddenly he’d walked back right to Cal’s house. Moving closer he noticed the lights were on, and he began to wonder why Cal was up so late. He knew it might seem strange to see Ivan at this hour, yet something was prodding him to check on him, make sure he was alright. Ivan decided he shouldn’t delay this conversation any longer. If Cal was up, he would tell him; he would unburden, and prayed to the Light it would not go badly.

Walking up to the door, he knocked softly.

The curtains moved by the window, and then there was shuffling around, and finally Cal opened the door, flush faced. “Is…” he paused, trying to get his mind to form words, the haze of alcohol had left his tongue feeling dry and heavy. “Are you okay?”

Ivan examined Cal with alarm. He looked ill; a fine sheet of sweat covered his pale face and dark, purple circles were beneath his tired eyes. “Are  _ you  _ okay, Cal? You seem sick,” Ivan rushed inside the door and put his hand against the younger man’s forehead. He was very warm. He moved Cal gently back towards the small sofa and sat him down.

“Not sick,” Cal said, though he was sweating like he might be, there was clearly evidence of what he was actually up sitting on his desk, an empty bottle of whiskey. “I’m fine, Ivan…” he slurred, looking up at the man from where he was eased down on the sofa.

Since he couldn’t smell anything, it wasn’t evident until he saw it, sitting there. Ivan’s eyes drifted over the room and the empty bottle, and back at Cal. The older man knelt at his feet and wrapped his hand around Cal’s. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong, my friend?” he asked imploringly.

Sadly, it  _ was _ like Cal, and he knew Ivan would be disappointed. He let out a deep sigh, eyes droopy and bloodshot. He mouth worked around words, but nothing came out. “I thought maybe the other night, for a… a minute you were talking about me. I saw you with Emily today…”

All the words tumbling out of Cal’s mouth were firing into Ivan’s brain faster than he could process them. What he said the other night...he thought… 

“Emily?” was the first thing out of Ivan’s mouth, incredulous and trying to comprehend what the younger man was saying. “Do you think...Cal, no…” His expression changed from concern to realization, and he gasped. “You thought I meant you..” he repeated slowly.

“S-stupidly,” Cal added on, slumping back into the couch, his head lolling on his shoulder and against the cushions. “I had no right to assume. Or hope that. I.. I was… projecting maybe. A little.” Nothing made sense as it tumbled out of his mouth.

Ivan looked down and then back up into Cal’s red-rimmed eyes. He rose to sit next to him on the sofa. “I haven’t been honest with you, Cal, and...I sought wisdom from the Light..and...that’s what led me here tonight. I need…” he exhaled heavily, and grasped Cal’s hand again. “I need to unburden to you. You’re my friend, actually you’ve become my dearest friend and...I can’t keep this secret anymore, and now that you’ve said this...” he stumbled with his words, his amber gaze washing over the young man’s features.

“I’m...I  _ was  _ talking about you, Cal. The lustful feelings.” Ivan placed his other hand over the top of Cal’s, stroking long slender fingers with his own thicker, rougher ones.  _ “You.” _

It felt like it might be a lie, but Cal couldn’t care, Ivan was telling him the things he had wanted to hear, that Emily was just… nothing. His breathing grew heavier and more ragged, and he gripped Ivan’s hand tightly. Cal was drunk, this was the  _ worst _ way to confess, and he knew it. “I’ve wanted… to tell you the same for days, weeks…”

Ivan couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Emily is like a child to me, like a daughter. I don’t feel anything else toward her. But you...I wouldn't let myself think you could ever...ever feel the same...Cal..” he whispered. “Haven't you guessed...” Ivan focused on his mouth, on his breath. The priest's own breath hitched in his throat. “I'm in love with you, Cal.” He brought his hand up to the side of Cal's face tenderly, his palm burning as he touched him the way he'd wanted to for so long.

“I had hoped, but the other night…” Cal wished he were more sober for this, words were going in and out as his hearing felt muffled. His whole frame seemed to shake, or maybe he was imagining it as Ivan got closer. Cal reached with trembling hands and pulled Ivan to him, both hands cupping his face, and kissed him hard.

The priest felt himself falling forward into the smaller man as their lips finally met. It had been so long since Ivan had kissed anyone, but never had he felt himself burning from the inside out this way. He was stunned, so taken with the turn of events, he could barely do anything more than hold on to Cal, trembling nearly as much. He tilted his head to the side and kissed him back breathlessly.

Regrets turned to lust quickly as Cal wrapped shaking arms around Ivan, keeping him just there as their lips and tongues slipped together, creating a perfect seam, locking perfectly. “Ivan…”

Ivan's hand slid to touch Cal's waist and up to his back, wanting to keep him close and never let him go. He could taste the whiskey lingering there as he surrendered to his desires, licking around the younger man's mouth desperately, his tongue exploring, and his breath deepening. Hearing Cal whisper his name like that, full of urgent need, made him tremor, and when they finally parted to gasp for air, he couldn't bear it and rubbed his lips along Cal's defined jawline, his tongue darting out to lap at the sweat, longing to taste more.

Wrapping one arm around Ivan's shoulder, Cal kept him close, just  _ there _ . Lips on his skin like nothing else ever had been before this. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just Cal's pent up lust finally starting to come to a head. He tugged gently on Ivan's longer strands of almost ashen hair, fingers clenched, afraid for he let go, may even Ivan would disappear.

Ivan’s hands roamed over Cal’s body, beneath his shirt, seeking to caress the skin he’d fantasized about ever since he’d seen him in nothing but that towel. He barely even knew what he was doing, his movements frantic as though if he didn’t feel him now, the spell would be broken, Cal would come to his senses and stop him. “Cal..” he whispered against the younger man’s lips. “I’ve wanted you so long, if I’d known you wanted this too…”

They were both nobel sorts, who wouldn't dare impose themselves on the other without knowing or being aware of their wants and needs. Cal let out a soft moan under Ivan's ministrations, gasping at his words as he pulled the older man against him, and rolled them to straddle his thick thighs. Flushed with lust and alcohol, Cal gazed down at the priest.  “How long?”

“Since you answered the door in that towel,” Ivan panted. “You just make me…” he couldn’t finish, choosing instead to let his touch communicate. His big, callused palms navigated smooth planes of muscle, up his latissimus dorsi, back to his taut abdomen, with one arm wrapped around his back to keep him in place, the other rubbing his firm pectorals. When he felt Cal’s hands weave into his hair and pull, the priest moaned into his mouth, and his fingertips grazed over one nipple lightly. 

Ivan had never touched a man like this before, he’d never been  _ this _ aroused. The ache between his legs had swelled obscenely full so fast. With Cal’s weight pressing against him in his lap, he knew he’d feel it; and unlike so many times before, he  _ wanted _ him to.

Cal took it, and kissed Ivan hard for his words, giving over to his own desires, as every touch seemed to ignite the fire starting in his core. He quickly pulled his own shirt off and tossed it behind him, raking fingers and nails against Ivan's  scalp.

In his wildest, most furtive fantasies, Ivan didn’t imagine Cal straddling him shirtless like this. As they kissed with desperate hunger, the priest pawed clumsily at the younger man, finally resting both hands on his khaki-clad ass, cupping and kneading greedily. He pulled his body into him, and wanted to stop and remove his own shirt, but couldn’t tear his hands off Cal’s round backside. “Cal,” he whispered roughly in the seconds between wildly sucking and licking into Cal’s mouth.

Cal worked Ivan shirt undone and then off his shoulders, palming down his hairy chest slowly, taking in every inch of skin and muscle there as his teeth edged over his bottom lip and bit down softly. His hips moved down against Ivan’s, rutting in long sweeping motions against his erection trapped there.

Those burning hands Ivan had held so many times, now running over his body, truly felt like fire on his skin. The older man found his own hands moving down Cal's muscular sides, around his waist, and back to his undulating hips. “I-I-I've never done anything with a man before, Cal, I only know I want  _ this _ . I've been dreaming of you like this,” he huffed out in a stuttering whisper. “Please don't stop,” he said, before rolling one of Cal's nipples between his fingers. He nipped at Cal's long neck, not willing or able to stop himself, and desperate for more friction, he lifted his hips to meet Cal's.

“Neither have I,” was Cal's husky reply, neck stretched out for the other man as his hands positions over his shoulder for leverage. Cal rolled his lean hips against Ivan's, finding their bodies syncing up as friction pulsed through his groin.

Ivan didn’t know  _ how _ to touch Cal; everything he did was purely instinct and desire. He looked down, watching the younger man’s taut abdomen flex as he writhed in Ivan’s lap, their clothed erections rubbing against each other. He experimentally pressed an open palm against the firm, defined outline of cock filling the younger man’s khaki’s, rubbing slowly in rhythm with Cal’s movement.  At the same time, he began sucking hard against the long column of his exposed neck, that neck he’s stared at so many nights, tanned, thick, with a pronounced Adam’s apple. Every time he swallowed and licked his lips, it was absolutely obscene.

“D-d-does that feel good?” Ivan asked, his voice shaking.

Cal assumed he would touch Ivan the way he’d want to be touched, and even then it was strange to do, like touching a mirror. He tried not to think about it, and then roved hands over Ivan’s chest and up his neck. “Yes,” Cal breathed out, and caught Ivan’s lips with his own again, panting and moaning against his perfect mouth.

Ivan was hard to the point of it hurting, and a wet spot soaked through his pants, his erection straining at the fabric. He could see the same happening to Cal. He dared to go a bit further as they kissed and clawed at each other, unzipping Cal's trousers and reaching in to touch him through his underwear. “Cal...do you know how many times I just wanted to kiss you so badly, touch you, taste you..” he panted.  

On seeing this was okay, Cal undid Ivan’s pants and delved his fist in, grasping his hard dick, quaking slightly as his body realized just how badly it wanted to ravage and be ravaged, Cal rarely ever let himself succumb to desire and lust. “Tell me… Because I’ve wanted to touch you for weeks…”

Ivan could feel his orgasm coming up fast, and struggled to control himself; it was all too much when when felt Cal wrap his hand around his thickness. His hips jerked of their own accord against the young man’s hand. “Oh, oh Cal...I wanted to tear that towel away and..and...kneel between your legs and take you in my mouth….So many times drinking tea, I wanted to leap across the table and lay you down right there, bend you over...claim your mouth, your body...every minute with you, I’ve fought to control myself...I’ve...I’ve touched myself every night thinking about you…” He pulled down Cal’s white briefs and tugged out his long, throbbing cock, the pink head glistening with pre-come, and he brushed his thumb over the slit, spreading the wetness around and tunnelling his hand around him as he breathed hot and ragged against Cal’s lips.

Ragged breaths and moans left Cal’s lips as he hiked his hips higher, tugging and rubbing at Ivan’s cock in turns as they started to jack one another off, like rapid teenage boys trying to see who they could get off first. Cal used his free hand to pull Ivan closer, licking a long stripe up the priest’s throat, over his Adam’s apple, and then bit hard. He strained not to come at the taste of Ivan’s skin, but the rolling waves of pleasure crashed over him, spilling heavily in streams over the other man’s knuckles.

Ivan released a desperate moan as he felt Cal lick over the stubbled, sensitive skin of his neck. Sharp teeth sinking into his throat sent him over the edge, and as he felt Cal’s release splatter across his hand and belly, Ivan lost all semblance of control. The way the younger man worked him over in fast, firm strokes made the priest buck wildly into his hand. Panting hot against his neck, an animalistic growl sputtered up from deep in his chest as his come pulsed up the length of his thick meat, shooting in creamy, white ropes over both of them, all the way up Cal’s tanned, smooth torso and into his own thick chest hair. “...Oh Cal, Cal…” he huffed, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, the overpowering intimacy of what they’d just shared making him struggle to still his heart.

Ivan held him like that a moment, not yet able to look into his eyes and feeling uncertain and frightened in a way. It was so powerful, so fast. He felt self conscious as their breathing slowed.

Cal had given all trust over to Ivan, to see him in his debauched state, to see him lose control and give over to something pleasant, something he wouldn’t regret, and hoped Ivan wouldn’t either. A sort of thing that didn’t make him feel as though he was stirring the waters and darkness was coming after him. The throbbing of his heart still in his chest as they caught their breath, and yet beat against his skull as the alcohol dared to be burned off through his sweat.

“Ivan,” he whispered, panting.

Ivan held him like that, in his lap, running his hand up and down his back, and dipped his chin, his tongue darting out to lick some of the sweat from the side of Cal's neck. Salty, musky, intoxicating, just as he knew it would be.

Ivan pulled back slightly to finally look into his eyes. “...Cal...” he whispered, searching his face, voice still ragged from his release. He reached between them to cup Cal's strong jaw, cradling it gently. “...Cal...” His name came out almost reverently, and he ran the pad of his thumb over the younger man's lower lip before pulling him into another deep kiss.  

Letting Ivan lead him back to reality, and glued to this moment in time, Cal pressed his hands into the priest’s shoulders, breathing out heavily between their kisses, tongue and teeth sliding and clicking slowly.

Ivan couldn't get enough of the taste of Cal's mouth. Sliding their tongues together slowly, he ran his hand from Cal's jawline to the back of his head. “If I'd known kissing you was this good, I'd have done it so much sooner,” he whispered, breath hot against the younger man's lips.  

“I wish you had,” Cal whispered back, jaw dropped take Ivan’s tongue into his mouth and suck on it lewdly.

Their come was starting to dry in Ivan's thick chest hair, but he didn't want to stop making out with the younger man, feeling his warm skin pressed up against him, the way all his muscles flexed and moved under tanned skin beneath the priest's rough hands. “Maybe we should...maybe we should shower....” Ivan whispered. “I just...don't want to stop touching you,” he confessed, lost in Cal's sea-blue eyes. They seemed to burn into him every time he locked his gaze.  

“You don’t have to,” Cal said, taking Ivan’s hand in his own, he stood, slipping off the other man slowly, pulling him to his feet, the last of their clothes left behind as Cal dragged the other man to the bathroom.

Ivan rose, letting Cal lead him, stumbling a bit from lost circulation in his legs, having Cal in his lap so long. But it was certainly worth it. Ivan eyes roamed greedily over Cal's toned, lean body, so much skin he'd longed to see, taste and feel. As soon as they got inside the bathroom, Ivan pressed Cal against the door, moving his tongue over Cal's lips, into his mouth, his hands circling the shorter man's wrists and pinning them against the door frame. He pulled away after what seemed like hours, releasing him breathlessly. “Sorry...I'm sorry...” he stammered, looking down Cal's body shyly. Even now, Ivan still couldn't believe the beautiful man would allow him this.  

The brunet merely chuckled, encasing Ivan with his arms once he had free range of them again, having let Ivan take what he wanted. It wasn’t… to Cal’s best regard, and he hardly ever let anyone do that to him, but he trusted Ivan immensely. He kissed him again and again, and walked him to the shower, reaching behind them to turn it on. “Don’t be sorry.  _ We _ both want this.”

“Yes...” The priest stepped in, letting the hot water cascade over his chest. He took a bar of soap – the familiar Meyer Eye logo carved onto it's surface – and began lathering up his chest. Ivan turned back to face Cal, moving to let the spray cover him as well. He wasn't sure what to do; he wanted to wash Cal, but was entranced by the beads of water dotting Cal's skin, dripping down his taut belly. He stood there holding the soap to give the younger man, staring at him with parted lips.

Taking the soap, Cal instead used it as an excuse to touch Ivan’s chest again, lathering it into the hair there, getting closer to the other man. He ran the soap down Ivan’s chest to his belly, his hips, and then into the thicket of hair at his groin, keeping his eyes on him the whole time.

Ivan's respiration deepened, and Cal's intense, impossibly blue eyes were positively arresting. Feeling Cal's fingers running down his body, he was astonished the younger man seemed to want to touch him as much as Ivan did, and was more sure of himself in doing so. His breath hitched as those fiery, strong hands slid downward. He reciprocated finally, with no pretense of washing, brushing his thumb over a pert brown nipple, rubbing Cal's firm pectorals and flattening his palm down his belly. When Cal's hand began moving to soap up between his legs, Ivan's cock quickly filled fully, lying thick against his thigh. His full lips formed a silent “Oh”, nostrils flaring at the contact.  

Cal dove in for another kiss, unable to help himself as his fingers grasped Ivan’s length, more sure of himself now than he had been before, growing familiar with Ivan, with himself, and their bodies together. Cal forgot the soap all together and let it slip to the floor as his mouth over took the other man’s, tongues sliding together.

Ivan nearly fell, gasping against Cal's mouth as he gripped the priest tightly, his hips rocking forward into Cal's hand. He was on fire, running his hands around behind Cal to grip his ass in both hands and pull him up, trapping their cocks between their wet bodies. As their teeth crashed together, Ivan felt a frantic need building in him again; he felt like a teenager, so needy so soon after coming. “Please...please, Cal,” Ivan begged, though he didn't even know for what. More. More of everything. He grazed his sharp teeth down the side of the younger man's neck, sucking kisses, pulling skin between his teeth and digging his fingertips into the soft but muscular round globes of Cal's backside.

Every ounce of his drunken mess was gone as Cal felt himself sober at the words, at Ivan begging him, and it didn’t even matter for what, as all Cal ever wanted was to hear words like fall from Ivan’s lips more often. “Tell me,” Cal whispered, head lolling back to expose the vein in his neck as Ivan’s teeth grazed a new set of lust loose in the movement leader.

Ivan was beyond logical thought, lost in the sensations overtaking his body. “I...I..don't know. I want everything, Cal, all of you, I...want to taste every part of you, everything,” the priest huffed out. His lips ran down Cal's body, across his collarbone and to his nipples, lapping over one and sucking it. It was so different from making love to a woman, even in Ivan's limited experience, and yet it felt like he'd needed it his entire life.

His hands massaged the younger man's body, relishing in the feel of Cal's skin beneath them, down his ribs and hips, until he knelt in front of Cal and looked up at him. “Cal...I don't...Can I...? I don't know how but I need...” Ivan blushed, his cheek pressed against Cal's hipbone as he curved his hand around Cal's length and licked his lips. He stared at him heatedly, pleadingly, for permission...to do something he had no idea how to, he only knew he wanted it.  

That would make two of them of course, but Cal wouldn’t deny that he had thought about the priest on his knees and doing this to him in every corner of his house. Cal nodded slowly, hands resting on his shoulders, as if pushing him down further, giving him silent permission.

Ivan felt the reassurance of Cal's warm hand on him and tugged upward on the younger man's cock, licking the slit over experimentally. It was tangy, salty, like the taste of his sweat but stronger. Ivan stared at his body, fat full balls nestled in a forest of dark, curly hair, and cords of veins up the sides of his erection, curved, thicker at the tip, longer than Ivan's uncut flesh but not as wide.

He swallowed before opening his mouth over the head and sucking a little. It made his jaw ache in an unfamiliar way, cautious not to let his teeth touch the sensitive flesh. He pulled off after a few slow sucks, stroking Cal and looking up at him nervously. Ivan tried again, this time attempting to take him deeper, and came off with a coughing sputter as his teeth scraped accidentally. “I-I-I'm sorry,” he apologized, his cheeks flushed. Recovering, he held Cal in his hand and licked all the way up the length and up around his head, swollen, red and leaking more pre-come. Ivan caught some on his tongue, acclimating to the flavor that was distinctly Cal, and finding himself wanting more of it.

Cal's finger carded into longer strands, encouraging the older man, but never forcing him as he watched his length disappear a few times, utterly in awe. He couldn't believe Ivan wanted this, that he was on his knees tasting Cal for what the leader hoped was not the last time. “No, it's fine, it's fine.”

Ivan continued sucking, taking more of Cal in with each stroke. His strong hands gripped the younger man's hips, and wandered to his backside, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. The priest relaxed his jaw a bit more; it was already burning from the stretch, but the heavy breaths and pants from Cal's mouth made Ivan want more and more. He hollowed his cheeks, saliva dripping down Cal's inner thighs, and pulled off his length with an obscene pop, gasping for air. He rubbed his jaw sheepishly but moved his free hand around him to replace his mouth, rubbing up and down and looking up at Cal. The younger man's blue eyes burned down on him, almost black with lust. Ivan's own amber eyes were glazed and wet from his efforts. “You...you taste so good, Cal,” Ivan huffed, reaching finally between his own legs to grip his throbbing hardness and stroke himself a few times.  

They were more than clean enough now that Cal reached and turned the water off and tugged Ivan back to his feet. He cupped his face and kissed the words from his mouth, along with his own taste, groaning as he licked and sucked. He backed them carefully out of the shower, out of the bathroom itself and into his bedroom, soaking wet and all.

Ivan followed Cal into the bedroom, kissing him, his hands roaming over the other man's wet body. “How you looked that day in that towel, Cal...I...” the priest whispered, groping the younger man desperately, like an impatient teenager.  

“I… need to unburden,” Cal confessed right back, leading Ivan to the bed where he laid him out on it, leaning over him with strong, tanned arms on either side of his shoulders. “I had been hoping you would be by that day.”

Ivan looked up at Cal, color rising in his tawny cheekbones. His full, lush lips parted in a gasp. “You...you wanted me to see you like that,” he whispered, looking up at Cal like he was a vision. “I...I went home that night and...I had to touch myself thinking of you,” the priest confessed, gaze drifting down to Cal's own lips as he leaned up to capture the young man's mouth in his again.  

“How often?” Cal asked between heated kisses, straddling Ivan’s hips again, naked torso to naked torso, hips bumping and undulating as reached between them to cover both their cocks in one large palm.

“Every night, after being here, I had to go home, had to relieve the...desire for you,” Ivan said, grunting as he jerked his hips against Cal's. “So many times, with tea, with innocent conversation, every time you touched me was pure torture. I can't believe you never saw...you never saw how hard I was when you rubbed my shoulders that night,” the older man gasped as Cal began rutting against him shamelessly.

“I didn’t want to assume,” Cal whispered against Ivan’s mouth, clutching his free hand in his hair and tugged as he slipped his mouth down to Ivan’s throat, sucking a bruise against the sensitive, clean skin.

The older man moaned loudly, throwing his head back in ecstasy to the rough, urgent ministrations. He bent his knees, drawing Cal closer to him. “I-I…Oh, Cal, I almost came in your bathroom, you had me wanting so much.” Ivan’s muscular back arched up off the bed, rocking into Cal’s hand rhythmically. “Cal...Cal, bite down,” he begged, one hand wrapped around the back of the younger man’s head, his Danish accent thicker now than it had ever been.

Given permission to maim, Cal's teeth scraped slowly across flesh and his jaw hinged tightly, biting down until the fresh popping of flesh and coppery tang of blood dripped against his tongue. Cal groaned sucking, making sure Ivan was marked, never to forget.

Feeling the penetration was too much for Ivan. He howled Cal’s name once, his hips stuttering helplessly, and his flesh pulsed in Cal’s hand as he exploded in streams of hot, sticky come between them. He continued thrusting up into the younger man’s grip, his spend mixing with the copius pre-come weeping from Cal’s sensitive tip, coating them both. “Cal…” he beseeched in a hoarse rasp, licking into his mouth heatedly, relishing the taste of his own blood on Cal’s tongue.

On Ivan’s release, Cal gasped against the other man’s mouth as his hips sputtered into his own hand, smearing creamy white fluid between their cocks, only to add to it with a few hard flicks of his wrist, his whole body shaking. Cal rode it out, in waves, and finally rested over Ivan, on his forearms.

Ivan swallowed every moan from Cal’s mouth, exploring him hungrily and sucking his tongue. His heart was pounding; as he watched Cal in raptured awe, all the intense feelings he’d harbored for the young man overwhelmed him.

The priest held Cal in his arms, unable to do much more as his body calmed and adjusted to the drain. He rubbed his hand up and down the solid planes of the younger man’s back, pulling him closer and encouraging him to relax his full weight atop Ivan’s broad frame. “Oh, Cal,” he whispered affectionately.

The buzz of his drunk and the weight of the orgasm now leaning heavily against him, clearing his mind a little, Cal trembled at Ivan’s touches, coming back to reality. Things had been hazy before, but the smoke was clearing, so to speak. He rested his forehead against Ivan’s shoulder, still not able to put his weight on the older man, not sure he could, or if he  _ should. _

Ivan felt Cal's hesitation. “Are you ok, Cal?” he asked gently. “Maybe we just rest right now. I-I- don't want to leave...” he confessed quietly, his hands touching Cal's face tentatively, but tenderly.

Cal’s arms slipped under Ivan’s shoulders and clutched him tightly, right there, holding him as he took deep, deep breaths. Nothing was hesitant, if anything it was assured, but unsure. Cal knew what he wanted, but was afraid of what might happen to it when he wanted it too much. “Yes. Yes I’m… fine,” he whispered back.

Ivan brushed soft lips against Cal’s damp forehead. It was tender, romantic, expressing the priest’s deep feelings for the younger man. He couldn’t even help it any more; he could no longer hold back. His heart was sinking deeper and deeper into love with Cal. “I’m glad, because, I’m more than fine...I hope…” he paused, at once caught between opening vulnerably and protecting himself, but it spilled out suddenly. “I meant it when I said I was in love with you, Cal. It seems more...even more so, now,” he said, his voice a little rough.

Rolling to his side, Cal turned to look at Ivan, but stayed close, letting their gazes mingle for a moment as he took in Ivan’s words; words he never thought he would ever hear someone say to him. Lust was something else, it was never love, and never would be. “I know you mean it, just as I mean it now when I say, I love you, too.”

Never did Ivan think in his wildest dreams that he's ever hear those words from this beautiful man's lips. Never did he dare to hope, in all the nights he spent tossing and turning, dreaming of Cal, finding himself caring about him, did he imagine his love would be returned. He focused on Cal's face, taking the younger man's hand in his own and bringing it to his lips to kiss his palm, before pressing it to his chest and holding it there. His eyes burned into Cal's with such a fearless intimacy, such intense emotion. What he couldn’t form into words, flowed from his honey-colored eyes. He could feel sleep overtaking his body from the late hour and all their activity, but he leaned in close to capture the younger man's mouth in a slow kiss, nothing hurried, just tender and deep.  

Cal breathed in Ivan’s scent as he got closer again, musky and clean all at once. He held Ivan closer, pulling him in against him, side by side. “Stay tonight,” he whispered between slow, drawing kisses.

It was exactly what the priest wanted. “Yes...yes...” was all he could manage between softly brushing lips and little flicks of his tongue over Cal's. Ivan felt a peace settle over him. “Being here with you is perfect, Cal,” Ivan finally whispered. “I...I love you,” he said again, utterly full of conviction, not just for something to simply say; not just words but a truth poured from his very heart.

Cal wrapped himself around Ivan, smothered him with his limbs and body, covering him, and kissing him as they wrapped around each other. “I don’t want to be without you.”

Every word from Cal's lips was music to the priest’s ears. He found himself drifting off to the most peaceful, blissful sleep he'd had yet at the compound.


	6. Chapter 6

As he woke, the room was dark but for slivers of light from around the edges of the curtains casting lines across the room in brilliant rays. Ivan sighed and turned over to see Cal sleeping beside him, looking like an angel. He felt himself hard, as he usually did upon waking, but instead of pushing it down, he reached between his legs to touch, staring over at the younger man beside him. He wanted to kiss him but didn't want to break the spell, so he remained still, slowly stroking himself, his eyes open only enough to watch the gentle rise and fall of Cal's muscular chest. 

Cal slept on for a good few more minutes, but the slight shift in bed woke him from his hazy dreams. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked over at Ivan, and then slowly inched forward, and rolled himself over his body, hands working down his shoulders, to his chest, his hips, as he Cal moved lips and tongue down over Ivan’s tanned skin, biting and sucking.

Ivan sighed and hummed low in his throat at the weight of Cal over him, returning his touches, his arousal pressed against the young man's belly. “I thought I'd dreamed last night, until I saw you here with me,” the priest confessed, his own hands exploring lean muscle and the decadent expanse of skin.

“Not a dream,” Cal whispered, sliding between Ivan’s thighs, and working his way down his body with hands and tongue, lips kissing spots of flesh he’d only ever dreamed of tasting. His tongue explored over his hip bone, and then nestled his nose into the crease of Ivan’s thigh, taking in his musky scent that drove a shiver of lust down Cal’s spine, straight to his groin.

Ivan's jaw grew slack, gasps of ecstasy released from him as he felt Cal's soft lips and wet tongue over his body. As the younger man moved lower, Ivan's cock twitched, bobbing heavily. The firm, wet swipes Cal left caused his back to arch off the bed slightly, seeking more of the intensely pleasurable sensations. “Oh, oh, ohh...Cal,” he whispered.   

Cal licked his lips slowly, watching Ivan with anticipation, and then grasped his cock, and licked it over once slowly, tasting him, getting used to it as he took a deep, deep breath. “May I?” he asked, far more child-like than he intended it to sound.

Ivan dared to open his eyes and look down, the licks and the contact of Cal's hand spiking his sensitivity. He leaned up on his elbows, nodding wordlessly, amber eyes wide and pupils dilated with desire.  

“...Yes…” he finally exhaled.

Permission granted, Cal leaned in and wrapped his perfectly pink lips around Ivan’s cock, slowly, taking his time, testing his limits, only to find that he enjoyed the aching feel in his jaw, and the salty taste of Ivan’s precome against his rough tongue.

Ivan shuddered, reveling in the feel of his girth ensconced in Cal's welcoming mouth. He watched with deep breaths as the younger man's broad, sun-kissed shoulders tensed and flexed over Ivan's body. He was incapable of thought, of anything other than pure lust, staring with a heavily-lidded gaze as Cal sucked him in, inch by inch, first tentatively, and then bolder as he bobbed up and down the length of the priest's cock.    

Cal took Ivan down to the hilt, gagging himself once, pulling off, and then he tried again, and again until he got it right, and then sucked his way all the way back up, slowly. His blue gaze bore into Ivan’s amber one, never letting their gazes flit away as he tongued his slit.

Ivan writhed into the bed, fighting to still his hips from jerking wildly into Cal's mouth. His eyes were like a tractor beam, intense and the blue nearly blown black with lust, demonstrating that Cal was  _ more _ than alright, that he was enjoying it, reveling in the taste and feel of the priest's body. Ivan moaned loudly, unable to restrain himself. “If...if you keep doing that, I'm...ahhh, Cal..” he gasped, using all his force of will to not explode down Cal's throat. “It's just so good...”

Not sure he’d be able to take  _ that _ just yet, Cal pulled off and jerked Ivan instead, using his rough, calloused palms to edge up and down his shaft, thumbing the nerves at the tip, and licking precome from the slit, over and over, just all but begging the priest to come apart for him.

“Cal,” the priest gasped, thrusting into his hand unashamedly now that he wasn't at risk of choking him. He looked down at the younger man, and before he could stop himself, gushed out over his hand, splashing hot over his knuckles, panting out his orgasm. “I just, oh god, Cal, you felt so good...” he apologized tugging Cal upward towards his mouth to kiss him.

Cal smothered his hand through the creamy substance, still stroking Ivan as he crawled back over him, kissing him again, down into the pillows, caring not for the morning breath, only that they had a morning together at all. “I’ll be better next time.”

“What are you talking about. You’re so good, you made me...I couldn’t hold back,” Ivan whispered, brushing down the younger man’s body to lightly roll his testicles in one hand. His other went up to the back of Cal’s neck, wanting more and more of him, kissing with complete abandon. “I can’t believe this is real and you want me too,” he said when he finally pulled away for breath, looking into the younger man’s eyes with a mixture of awe and adoration.

“It’s real,” Cal whispered back, between heated kisses and bated breaths. He wrapped strong arms around Ivan’s hips, holding him closer, as close as he could get, afraid if he let go, everything would fall apart and disappear.

Ivan wrapped his hand around Cal’s cock, looking into his eyes and stroking between slow, furtive licks and bites to Cal’s mouth, his lips swollen from sucking Ivan. “It is, you’re right. Very real…”

Cal’s hips buck on their own accord, gasping and straining as he tried to control himself, to keep everything from wanting to lose control all at once. It was too good to rush. “Ivan-”

Ivan released Cal only for a moment to spit into his palm, before returning it to his heated flesh, spit combining with pre come to slick him up nicely. He gripped Cal with longing, moving up his body and using just his hand. Brushing his lips across the younger man's jaw, he nipped greedily with sharp teeth. Ivan reveled in watching the handsome young man sigh and moan with pleasure, pushing up into Ivan's grasp. “You're a wonder to behold, Cal. Jeg elsker dig, I love you. I adore you.” he whispered roughly.

Cal groaned anew, eyes closing at the sheer pleasure of it, enjoying every word, every touch, every nibble. He’d never been treasured quite like this, with love and affection, not just heated lust and need. It was utterly new and utterly terrifying all at once. His jaw slackened, dropped open slightly as his eyes went half hooded, watching Ivan work him over miraculously, body humming with pure pleasure.

Ivan’s eyes were full of pure affection as he stared at the younger man, his hand sliding wetly up and down Cal’s shaft. Taking advantage of lips parted in ecstasy, Ivan pressed his own against the younger man’s, sliding his tongue inside and moaning into his mouth. The priest's sole focus was Cal’s pleasure, driving him over the edge, watching him come apart yet again. He slid back down to rest between Cal’s thick, athletic thighs, and palmed over Cal’s balls, rolling them in his free hand. He was just doing to Cal what the older man knew brought him pleasure, what he did to himself when he was alone.

Up on his forearms, Cal watched, enjoying the view as Ivan took to pleasuring him the same way Cal had done, by insight of himself alone. “That’s good,” he murmured, hand over the back of Ivan’s head, encouragingly.

Ivan hollowed his cheeks to suck Cal back, as far as he could take him, testing himself with each descent down the younger man’s length. He found himself coughing again, but quickly recovered, lapping over Cal’s slit hungrily and finding he was really starting to enjoy his taste, his pre come, salty and not too bitter. It was most likely because of the man it was coming from, but Ivan was getting hard again himself just from engaging in the act, from feasting shamelessly on Cal’s body.     

There was bound to be more than this, but Cal wasn’t sure how to progress, not with a man, as he barely knew how with a woman, and this was far, far different. He tried not to think about it as he watched Ivan take him down, past pink, swollen lips, biting his own bottom one until it started bleed. “Shit, Ivan-” he huffed.

Ivan didn't hesitate, stroking faster but suckling just the tip. He wasn't sure what he'd do when Cal came,  wasn't sure if he was ready to taste him just yet, although everything he tasted so far was delicious, he didn't know how he would react to the climax. The priest pulled off of him with a wet  _ pop _ , and closed his grip tighter, tugging faster, his lips parted and panting close to hot, silky skin.

Cal’s head fell back on his neck, lolling there, as he gasped, hips arching into Ivan’s hands, against his lips but never pressing as the heat rose inside of his core, and burst out, in droves, over tanned knuckles and perfectly calloused palm.

Ivan found his mouth open, drops of Cal’s come splashing against his chin, cheek, over his hand, some landing on his lips as well. Ivan’s tongue slipped out to lick the hot, sticky nectar, not minding the taste as much as he thought he might. “Oh Cal…”

“Sorry,” Cal apologized, profusely, gripping Ivan’s shoulder and pulling him up to him, once more,  arms around him, to kiss him and the taste of himself off his tongue.

The rays of morning light streamed through the window, illuminating their shameless, pleasure-slack bodies tangled together on Cal’s bed. Ivan kissed the younger man lazily, luxuriating in the afterglow. “Don’t be sorry, Cal. Never be sorry with me,” the priest sighed against his lips, holding his hand. It seemed like such an old fashioned gesture after everything they’d just done, holding his hand like that, but for Ivan it was his way of emphasizing the deep connection and feeling he had for Cal. The very real  _ love _ .

Cal relaxed, squeezing Ivan’s hand gently, he wrapped his other arm around him, sharing the small bed with him once more. How he ever lived without someone like Ivan, he was still unsure. And yet, he wasn’t even sure if he could be all honest with Ivan, about his past, about everything. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure. You’ve made me feel something I haven’t felt in years, Cal,” Ivan said. “I think we make a very good team, in all respects. Life, ministry, and now this.” Ivan pulled Cal’s leg to rest over his thigh, their limbs in a tangle of warmth.

For Cal, being accepted was the one thing he craved, and now that he was, he was afraid of being a disappointment to the priest when all his past would become shaken loose. “I… love you,” Cal whispered, honestly, leaning over and across the other man.

Ivan felt his heart leap and ache with joy at the quiet words from the young man’s mouth. He’d never expected to feel this alive ever again; while he’d found peace after all the years of pain and denial, he’d in great measure assumed he would not find love again. Now this intense connection he’d enjoyed with Cal had surpassed his wildest dreams and blossomed into something that filled the void he’d grown so accustomed to, and spent so much energy ignoring. 


	7. Chapter 7

Days were spent together, snuggled up in bed, never leaving unless they had to, and Cal was never more thankful for his privacy. A week went by and they were inseparable. It was then that Cal brought up the subject of Eddie, once again, but this time in further depth, something to think about as the man had been on his mind, not just because of Sarah (though now she was Cal’s least worry), but because Eddie needed to find his way back. 

Over tea one morning, Cal looked over at Ivan as he sipped his hot beverage. “Eddie Lane has been avoiding the compound for a while. I know I’ve mentioned him before. I can’t get him to speak with me….”

“I remember. You said he used to be catholic, right? I can’t imagine a better person to try to get through to him. I think at the very least, he’d give a priest a shot,” Ivan commented, stirring a bit of cashew milk into his tea. 

Cal smiled over at Ivan, knowing that bringing it up would most likely spike the priest’s interest. “I’m hoping that’s the case. I’d rather he believed and were safe here with his family, than somewhere… else.”

“I’ll call him and see if he’s willing to meet,” the priest replied. He looked affectionately at Cal and squeezed his hand. 

***

Ivan turned over the piece of paper in his hands, got on his knees, and glanced up at the Eye on the wall above his bed, before closing his own. “Light of truth, please guide my words in speaking to this child of yours, Eddie Lane. Soften his heart, make him receptive to me so I might be able to reach him, to at least get him to meet with me, and show him your light, your hope.” Ivan rose, sat on the edge of the bed, and dialed the phone.

When Eddie got the call, he wasn't surprised his wife had someone reaching out to him; he  _ was _ surprised at who she was working with now. A priest? Since when did the Meyersists make bedfellows of Catholics? It intrigued the man, which is why he wound up agreeing to meet him at the same bar he'd met Alison at so many months ago. He was still having visions, hallucinations, the same as before; the yellow snake, dead animals, his brother. He wasn't sleeping. His chest ached something fierce missing his children. Eddie's life had become an isolated, lonely nightmare, with no one to talk to, no where to go. He felt he was losing his mind. What did he have to lose talking to this priest? Nothing; all the same, the fact that this man even knew the Meyerists set him on edge. He'd have to feel this guy out first before he'd tell him anything.

Ivan walked into the dimly lit bar, a low-setting sun streaming through the slats in the windows. He spotted a young man sitting alone at the bar, back to the door, and walked up. “Do you have Carlsberg?” he asked the barkeep, who grinned and nodded. “Not many asking for that,” the man said, and slid the import down to the priest. Ivan turned to the smaller-statured man, hunched over, nursing a bottle solemnly.

“Eddie?” The blond had bags under his slightly red-rimmed blue eyes, and he turned to look at the older man. He looked exhausted - haggard - too much so for his relatively young years. “Yeah. Father Ivan?”

“Please, just call me Ivan.” The priest extended his hand in greeting with a warm smile. 

Eddie took his hand and shook it with a suspicious glance. “You'll forgive me if I'm short with you. I've been through a lot with these people. If they sent you to...”

“You have no reason to trust me, and I don't expect you to,” Ivan interrupted. “It's understandable, Eddie. They took your family from you. I don't agree with that. It's true that I have come to know of you through these people, however, I'm not here to convince you to go back to them, or convert you, or anything else. I'm here on my own behalf, as a man of God, who has heard you've had visions. I know some of what has happened to you. I want to tell you my own story, and see if I can help you, because that is what I do. My desire to meet with you and talk to you is just as I told you on the phone. I'm a servant of God. I seek to help people, and I believe you can use my help. If you don't trust me after I tell you my story, then leave, and you need never speak to me again,” Ivan took a sip of his beer and looked thoughtfully at the younger man.

Eddie surveyed the priest and drank from his own beer. “Fair enough. Go ahead. I'm listening.”

Ivan nodded towards a booth. “Should we go sit somewhere more private, perhaps?” He walked to the corner and slid into the seat. Eddie joined him. Seated across from him now, Ivan began, meeting his gaze.

“I'll start from the beginning. My mother died when I was just a boy, I don't even remember her, really. My father abused my brothers and I violently. Beat us, raped us, most of my life. I married young, but my son was born with cerebral palsy. My wife could not bear the agony of having a child with this disability. She somehow thought she was to blame for our child's malady, that God had turned his back on us, for what reasons, I don't know. When our son was a toddler, she committed suicide by drug overdose. Something snapped in me when these things happened. I could not face them, and I denied them. I shifted into complete delusion. I made up my own reality where they simply did not occur the way they truly did. No one could reason with me.

“I was, of course am still, a priest, with a parish in Denmark, rehabilitating young men from a local prison. When they get out, they come to my church, I give them odd jobs, feed them, give them purpose and lead them to faith. About 3 years ago is when things got very interesting for me. One of my lost sheep was so determined to get me to lose my faith, so put off by it, he tried multiple ways to break me. Gave me a right good beating, broke my nose,and when he found out the truth about my wife and child, he confronted me with it to the point that I began bleeding from my very ears, and blacked out. He convinced me it wasn't the devil who was after me, but God. God had turned his back on me.”

Eddie sipped his beer and stared at the older man intently. Ivan continued.

“They took me to the doctor and found I had a brain tumor, with only weeks to live. Cancer. I snapped back to reality so severely, I lost all traces of faith and hope. I didn't care anymore. God had abandoned me. I told my people to try and take the best of what they could from whatever I'd taught them, and do as they wanted. I didn't care if I lived or died. I had nothing to live for.”

A waitress came by and Ivan nodded to bring two more beers to them.

“Adam, the young man who'd broken my spirit, was a Neo-Nazi. His men came to our church to bring him back to their group, and things went wrong. In the scuffle of attempting to disarm them, I was shot in the head, right through the eye. Everyone thought I was dead. At best I'd be a vegetable. All I can remember is waking up, getting out of bed, and walking to the garden outside the hospital. My doctor quit his job and said he wanted to work somewhere people who needed medical attention could be healed by him, not some 'fluke'. It turns out, the bullet blew the tumor clear out of my head. It seems entirely impossible, random, yet I don't believe it was. I believe the hand of God guided every event leading up to that moment. He brought that young man into my life, who brought those Nazis there, who shot me, and directed that bullet to remove my cancer with surgical precision.”

The young lady came and set the bottles on the table, and Ivan slipped her a few bills to cover both beers. He swallowed some of the cold amber liquid.

“It's been eleven years since that happened. Many months ago, I had a vision. I was in a dense, dark forest and fell into a hole. A hand reached towards me. The hand that pulled me out was my own. I heard a voice, telling me to come to New York. I came, and happened to meet Cal in a tea room. He brought me to the compound. In conversation he mentioned you and your story. Eddie, I'm not a Meyerist, I'm a priest. I have no motivation to convert you to their ways. I simply want to help you. I can see just by looking at you, you're troubled.”

Eddie was astounded by the priest's story, there was no question. He was still hesitant, and yet, he had little to lose, and maybe the priest could interpret the visions. He furrowed his brows and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah. It started when I was doing 6R in Peru. Did Cal tell you about the rungs?” Ivan nodded, and Eddie went on: “Okay, well, I was drinking the Ayahuasca. It's this hallucinogen they give you to open your mind, your third eye, to the spiritual world and reveal personal truths to you, things about your true self supposedly. So, I saw my brother. My dead brother.” he sighed, drinking his beer. “When I was a teenager, I had found my older brother hanging from an extension cord in our kitchen. Our parents died when we were kids, and my brother basically took care of me, raised me, up to that point. It was fucking devastating losing him. Oh shit, sorry,” Eddie stammered. 

Ivan smiled. “No need, Eddie, speak freely with me. I'm hardly offended.” Ivan thought in certain circumstances the language could be rude, however this boy was clearly in pain, and in this context, it was not inappropriate.

Eddie continued, “So I saw my brother during my first vision, and he motioned for me to follow him. I did, right to Steve Meyer’s room. When I opened the door, he was in a hospital bed, hooked up to all these IV’s, monitors, with a huge yellow snake slithering all over him,” Eddie shivered. “You gotta understand, up to this point, Cal had told everyone Steve was in seclusion, healthy, and writing the last three rungs of the ladder. And Steve was above all the rungs himself. He lived- or so we were told – in a state of pure light. No illness could touch him. Impervious to disease. So this was a complete shock to me. Everything I'd believed, put my faith in, was shattered.”

Eddie rubbed his hands over his face, trembling slightly, and took a long swig of beer to steady himself. “Man, after my brother died, I was lost. I wanted to die, I was suicidal. I turned to drugs, I was on the streets. I fell into a bad crowd. One day I wandered into one of the Meyerists' centers and read The Ladder. It fucking hit me in the face. I was vulnerable, hopeless, and it seemed to strike a chord in me somewhere, gave me something to believe in. I went to the compound, they took me in. They treated me like one of their own, got me cleaned up. I met my wife there. Cal became like a brother to me. They were the family I'd lost, the family I'd wanted and never had. I've never felt so whole before, Father...I mean..Ivan. And then...Peru. You can see how much this broke me.” Eddie looked into the priest's' eyes. He looked so young and vulnerable, like a small child, and Ivan's heart went out to him.

“And as I understand, Sarah found out about what happened in Peru,” Ivan concluded.

Eddie laughed bitterly. “Yeah. I'm sure Cal didn't tell you how that happened. The asshole told her. That's why she fucking kicked me out. He has the fucking hots for her. Couldn't wait to get rid of me.”

Ivan raised his eyebrows at Eddie. “I've observed them together, and have not noticed this between them. I have not seen that evidence.”

Eddie looked up at him. “Yeah well, Cal is all about his image, so he wouldn't let anyone see it. Not yet anyway. Gotta wait a respectable amount of time after the denier husband's been excommunicated before openly fucking his wife.”

Ivan wrinkled his brow. He didn't want to- couldn't really- tell Eddie the nature of his own relationship with Cal. He chose his words carefully. “I must be honest, Eddie. I don't think it's like that. I've spent a great deal of time with the Cal the last few weeks, and we've barely seen Sarah. I'm quite confident they are not together like that. But tell me, have you continued having these visions? From talking to Richard, I understand you have.”

Eddie looked up at the priest and sniffed.  _ Was it even possible those two weren’t...? _ he wondered. He still wasn't convinced about Cal and Sarah, but he moved on. “Yeah. I was on Steve's walk with my son, and I saw my brother again at Coney Island. He led me to the edge of the Atlantic, walked right in, walked away from me. I haven't seen him again since. After that, saw the yellow snake in my motel room. I saw a dead hawk in the toy aisle of a store shopping for Christmas gifts for the kids. I talked to Richard. He said the  _ Light _ was trying to tell me something. It always comes back to the fucking LIGHT for these people,” Eddie slammed his fist on the table in frustration.

Ivan nodded sympathetically. “It might not have been the Light, per say. Maybe it was God. I understand you used to be Catholic, you were raised in the church. Do you believe in God, Eddie?” Ivan inquired.

“I don't know what the fuck to believe anymore,” Eddie said in a broken voice, tears forming in his eyes. “Maybe I'm just going crazy.”

“Eddie, I do believe there is something supernatural at work here. I don't think it's coincidence that people have visions. The things you've seen are symbolic. A yellow serpent can represent blocked intuition and being open to insight. Yellow is often the color of betrayal and jealousy. I think both of these elements are clear for you personally, with your relationship with Sarah, and you being blinded to the truth that Cal is not interested in her in the way you think. If we were to associate it to Doctor Meyers, it could be indicative of his disease, and of deceit. Potentially, it was being revealed to you the truth that he was not writing the rungs, but was in fact dying at the time. Hawks also symbolize vision and intuition. If the one in your vision was dead, it could be telling you you need to open your eyes and look more clearly at the situation. Hawks also are a very spiritual symbol. It could be something telling you to open your heart to your spirituality, not deny it. There's an emptiness, an ache, a pain in your heart, Eddie. I can see it.”

Ivan reached his hands across the table to grasp Eddie's. “Meyerism may not be the answer, Catholicism might not either, it might not be called the Light or God for you, but you  _ are _ longing to connect with a higher power, and I believe your visions are leading you towards that.”

The younger man cried, tears flowing now. He was so exhausted, so tired of fighting. The priest's words made sense and something about him was so comforting. “I- I – I think you could be right, Father. I mean, Ivan. I...I miss my family so much.”  

Ivan patted the young man’s hand. “I know, Eddie, I think there can be reconciliation. I am happy to speak to Sarah or help you in any way I can.”

“Thank you. I...just...thank you.” Eddie was hesitant to trust, but there was something so comforting and reassuring about this man’s presence. After all he’d endured it seemed impossible to believe anything, but the priest had an effect on him.

“I’ll give you my number. Call me anytime you need an ear, my friend,” Ivan said, finishing up his beer.

“I’ll think about the thing with Sarah. I just really want to see my kids again, Ivan.” Eddie said sadly, eyes reddened once more with emotion. 

“You will. We’ll work on this together, Eddie.”

***

Ivan made his way back to the compound, his head full of the echoes of his meeting with the troubled young man. He truly hoped he could reason with Sarah, and prayed he'd gotten through to Eddie. He climbed the short steps to Cal's house and entered without knocking; they'd progressed to a point where it was no longer necessary.

Cal was at his desk, looking over files on the laptop there, and looked up, the blue glow of the screen reflecting off his eyes. He smiled, canting his head at Ivan, and stood, coming around greet him personally, affectionate like this only behind closed doors, for now. He let their foreheads rest together. “How’d it go?”

Ivan raised a hand to cup Cal's jaw lovingly. “He's a tortured soul, but I believe I gave him hope. He wants to reconcile with Sarah. I think he could be receptive to rejoining us, in time. He's so full of pain, but he hasn't given up entirely,” the priest said, leaning in to brush his lips against the younger man's.   

“Good,” Cal sighed, and kissed Ivan softly for his help in the matter. “Admittedly, I might have steered him away some time ago, selfishly.”

“Would you? Why’s that?” Ivan inquired, a bit puzzled.

“He didn’t believe. I… knew he was faltering, and I tried to help him, but he kept denying us. So, I ran out,” Cal explained, “It was hurting Sarah, and at the time, I didn’t want that for her.”

Ivan reached out to pull Cal into his arms, nuzzling his neck. “I've given up on people before, though I usually end up trying again and again anyway, once the feeling of defeat passes. Something stubborn in me I suppose. You wanted what was best for your friend, and that's understandable. But now, do you suppose Sarah would be open to this? And can a denier ever be allowed back?” Ivan asked.

“Yes, we’ve let back many deniers. Sarah will take him back, I’m sure of it, if he wants to believe again,” Cal said, though he wasn’t sure Sarah wanted Eddie back at all, even still.

“Do you wish to speak to her on this matter, Cal?” Ivan asked. He’d really only ever trained with the young woman; he wasn’t sure if she’d take his advice or not, being only a 4R.

“I think Eddie needs to make that move first,” Cal offered, spreading his hands against Ivan’s back. “If he wants reconciliation, then it should come from him, not me.”

The priest pressed his lips against the side of Cal’s neck and hummed. “I’ll give Eddie a call and let him know,” Ivan said quietly.  

Cal’s eyes slipped closed, almost forgetting what they were talking about at all, and  nuzzled his head against Ivan. “Good idea.”

***

Later that afternoon, Ivan dialed Eddie and told him he thought he should come back to the compound to meet with Sarah. Eddie didn't seem too interested in that, but finally agreed; the priest could indeed be very persuasive. Ivan volunteered to be present for it for support, but he advised him that Eddie should be the one to call her. Eddie agreed and would call him back once that conversation had occurred.

***

Sarah picked up the phone on the third ring. It was an unknown number, but she seemed to instinctively know it who it was. 

“Eddie,” she answered, before he even spoke.

“How did you know it was me?”

“I knew. What do you want?”

“That priest you have...he talked to me. I want to come back, Sarah. I miss you, the kids...” Eddie's voice cracked with emotion.

Sarah could feel the tears coming but she held back stubbornly. “You made your choice, Eddie. You know I can't take you back.”

“He told me what happened to him. Babe, I've been having these visions, these things I...I think it's the Light trying to call me back. I didn't believe....but Sarah, can't I just see you please? Talk to you, face to face?”

Sarah sighed. She wanted to see him so much, she missed him with a longing ache. But she was mistrustful. “I don't think so, Eddie.”

“Ivan said he'd come along, be a neutral party, if we wanted to just talk. You won't have to be alone with me, and he's not going to tell anyone,” Eddie begged. “Please, baby.”

Sarah had been impressed with Ivan from the first day she met him, and knew he had a strong spiritual connection and presence. Maybe. “I'll think about it, Eddie. Call me in a couple days, ok?” She hung up, her mind a turbulent storm of feelings.

***

Ivan had called the meeting in Cal's office, just Sarah, Cal, and himself. Sarah had finally agreed to see Eddie, but only after she could meet privately with Ivan and Cal, talk about what might happen. Cal stood by the window, arms folded over his chest as they waited for the young woman to arrive. Ivan had made it a good point that Cal needed to put an end to everything that happened between him and Sarah in the past, so they could both heal and move on.

In truth, when the priest had heard of Cal's relationship with Sarah, he felt a great deal more jealous than he would've liked. But Cal had acknowledged it was in the past, and encouraged him to do just that-- heal and move on. He hoped Eddie and Sarah would reconcile, for their sakes of course, but a part of him wondered how Sarah would feel about his relationship with Cal, were she to know.

“It really is for the best that she know,” Cal said, since they hadn’t broached this subject yet with words, but he knew Ivan was worrying.

Ivan sighed nervously and rubbed his palms against his bare legs. He eyed Cal and nodded slowly. “Well, if you think...she won’t react badly…” he said, trailing off uncertainly. He took a sip of the tea Cal had prepared for the meeting to settle himself.

“She might be disappointed, a little, that I’m no longer mooning over her as I have since we were children, but… she’s a grown woman, she’ll understand,” Cal explained, and handed Ivan the honey.

A short knock on the door broke the brief silence between the two men, just before the door opened.

“Cal, Ivan, good morning,” Sarah said, smiling, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was a nervous tension in her gait as she approached Cal’s desk to sit down. “Eddie will be here in about 10 minutes. He was running late, someone called in sick at his new job. He...just started working again, which is good I guess,” she said, smoothing the fabric of her long skirt over her legs and looking over at Cal. “He’ll be here.”

“Good. I think it's important that we are all honest, that the air is cleared and our minds unburdened,” Cal said, shifting nervously, nearer to Ivan. “We… well  _ I _ wanted to clear things with us first, Sarah. That your life won't be hampered with, that you don't have to worry about me, or what I do, it won't affect your personal life anymore.” Cal looked Ivan and set his tea down. Then, he reached for his hand.

Ivan accepted Cal’s hand warmly, the simple contact of their palms against each other sending a soothing calm through his spirit. It was as though they were meant for this, to be with one another; as though the priest had finally found the other piece of himself. He wasn’t incomplete, but he knew the young spiritual leader made him stronger and more centered, as well as genuinely, truly happy. He caught Cal’s stormy cerulean gaze, holding the eye contact meaningfully and squeezing his hand gently before looking back at the young woman. He waited for Cal to continue.

“Ivan and I have found comfort in each others’ presence. He's made me an even stronger believer,” Cal took a deep breath and looked at Sarah. “I love him.”

Sarah stared in disbelief at Cal for a moment, finally looking over at the handsome older man as well, and down at their hands, fingers tangled together intimately. She swallowed hard and managed a small smile. “I admit, I'm stunned. I mean, I knew you looked happier, more relaxed than I've seen you in...well in years.” She paused, leaning back in her chair. Immediately she began to wonder if the priest would try to jeopardize her own position in the Movement. “If you're happy, Cal, and you're still...walking in the light…” she trailed off uncertainly.

“He is. We both are, Sarah. I know in the deepest part of my soul, the Light led me to Cal, to all of you,” Ivan interjected, his voice compassionate and reassuring. “We’re stronger together. All of us.”

“If anything, Ivan has kept me on track, kept me from straying,” Cal insisted, watching Sarah carefully.

Sarah looked out the window a moment and then back at Cal. “I’m sure you know this isn’t easy for me, with our history. But, look at me. My husband is coming back to try and reconcile, and I don’t know if I can do it. I miss him so badly, but...Cal this Movement, you know that it’s my entire life.” She stopped and took a deep breath. She looked back and forth between the two men again.

“I can’t be with a denier.”

“And what if Eddie wants to come back and try to find the Light again, Sarah?” Cal asked, knowingly. “He’s strayed, but he  _ needs _ you.”

Sarah looked back up, eyes softened with emotion. “ _ If _ he wants to find the Light again…” she said finally.

Another knock on the door broke the stillness, and Ivan rose to answer it, nodding at Cal. Eddie came in, greeting Ivan with a handshake. Looking around the room, he stopped in front of Sarah as he saw her.

“Sarah,” he started, eyes filling with tears. She simply looked up at him, not moving.

“Hi, Eddie,” the young woman said quietly.

“We’re glad you came, Eddie. This is a place for healing, reconciliation and growth. Love,” Ivan said, sitting back down next to Cal and taking his hand again.

Cal gestured to the cups and tea on the desk, waiting for them. “Help yourself,” he said, squeezing Ivan’s hand with a loving look over at him.

Eddie picked up on the body language between Cal and Ivan almost immediately, despite being preoccupied with seeing Sarah again. He cast a questioning look at Sarah. Cal had come between Eddie and Sarah so many times, and the man had been certain the Movement leader was trying to steal his wife. He knew how Sarah still held a flame for him all these years, so the fact that she seemed entirely focused on  _ him _ , and not upset about Cal and Ivan  _ holding hands _ , surprised him. “Uhhh, guys?” he asked, trailing off in his confusion. 

“Yes, Cal and Ivan. It seems they’ve...found each other,” was all she said. Seeing him standing there awkwardly in shock, she finally softened, reaching for his hand to tug him to the chair next to her.

“This is one of many reasons why we’re here-- why we’ve gathered you both here,” Cal explained, taking a  deep breath, holding Ivan’s hand with both of his own now. “It’s so clear you two need each other, and in the past, I’ve… meddled. I’ve pushed. Now I’m pushing back the other way. The way it should be.”

Eddie looked incredulously between Cal, Ivan and Sarah. Finally he spoke, addressing his wife quietly. “I’ve been having these visions, I told Ivan. He thinks the Light is trying to bring me back, to speak to me. I...I didn’t think I believed, but now I’m not so sure. I want...I want to try again, Sarah,” he said.

Her eyes grew damp as she listened. “The kids and I, we need you, Eddie. But only... _ only _ if you can commit to the Light. You have to want it, push past the darkness and doubts,” she said urgently, gripping his hands tightly. “You have to  _ try _ .”

Eddie nodded, darting an uncertain glance at Cal. He still had doubts and confusion, but he loved his wife and children too much. He  _ needed _ to do this. If this bit between Cal and Ivan was real, well, that in itself would go a long way to mending things between them. “And...you’re ok with this? With them? Sarah, I  _ know _ how you and Cal feel about each other.”

Sarah looked down and back up at Eddie. “Cal’s found his happiness. There’s nothing between us, Eddie. It’s  _ you _ I love. For god’s sake, you’re the father of my kids. I just want you to try to find your way back to us, to your truth, because I’ve...you inspired me, that flame of conviction you once had. I  _ want _ you to get there again.” 

Cal watched, holding Ivan's hand in his lap, squeezing it. He shot a look at him, warm and penetrating all at once. Things would work, everything would come together. As it should be.

“If you’re willing to give me another chance, Sarah...I’d love to try,” Eddie said sincerely, his blue eyes wet with forming tears. Sarah stood and he did too, and they finally hugged in a healing, loving embrace, full of emotion. “Thank you too, Cal, for giving me another shot,” Eddie, said looking down at the movement leader.

“We all deserve a second chance,” Cal said, knowingly, aware that his was sitting right next to him, holding his hand.

“We can start by you coming home, Eddie. Come see the kids. They miss you,” Sarah said. “Cal, Ivan, thank you for this. We’ll meet with Richard later on today and fill you in on how it goes,” the young woman said, pulling Eddie toward the door. They left, the whole while looking at each other longingly, and Ivan felt warmth in his chest for helping the couple.

Once they were gone, Ivan tugged Cal close, gently holding his chin to kiss him. “You’re doing the Light’s work, and it looks good on you,” he said quietly.

“Do you think so?” Cal asked, just slightly worried that maybe he’d strayed a little.

“You invited a lost sheep back into the fold. You were open enough to give him another chance, possibly reuniting a family. Cal, yes, I can’t think of a better example of how wonderfully the Light works in our lives. Giving hope. If Eddie can make peace with himself and rediscover his faith, heal his family, I’d say that’s everything we work for as men of...men of the Light. Ascending the ladder, as you say,” Ivan said, waving his hands a bit as he grew more excited. It truly galvanized him, being in Cal’s presence, seeing him work and now, working  _ with _ him to help people.

Cal smiled a bit, and let his forehead rest up against Ivan’s. They’d been through so much as separate people, that it was difficult to realize that someone wanted to help Cal-- that he wasn’t alone. Ivan gave him a peace he’d never known. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

***

Ivan had made it through 5R with Richard, who was a decidedly more aggressive teacher than he’d experienced thus far, but he liked it. Ivan never shied from hard work, and the mental and physical challenges made him stronger in both faith and body. Even his skinny cyclist legs were beginning to firm up and grow with muscle he put on.

The former priest was eager to go to Peru with Cal. He planned to move Christoffer to the states as soon as he returned, since he could only see his future being here, in Upstate New York, with Cal. He made the arrangements and asked Father Adam to accompany him to visit, his plan being to ask the priest to take over the parish in Denmark.

He was packing light for the trip to Cusco, knowing that this was a spiritual journey and the most important thing he could bring was a willing, open heart, something Cal had really helped him with extensively. Everything was going smoothly, and part of him did worry that perhaps it was a little too easy. He knew he’d face greater challenges with each rung, but believed with the handsome young leader at his side, he could face anything.


	8. Chapter 8

Cusco only brought back memories for Cal. Nothing terrible, until he realized that Steve was still there, dying. He’d yet to really delve into that with Ivan, but he couldn’t bring it up back home either without the idea that someone might overhear them. On their hike to the compound in Cusco, Cal laced his fingers with Ivan’s as they walked.

 Ivan held the younger man’s hand tightly, feeling the peace and beauty of the place soak into his very soul.

 “I believe Steve will soon become one with the Light,” Cal mentioned, quietly.

 Ivan looked at him, startled. “I thought he couldn’t die? That he’s so embedded in the light, he was impervious...what do you mean?” the priest asked.

Cal debated quietly for a moment, and then paused to look at Ivan. “We have to tell people that, but the truth is… Steve is… Steve has.... cancer.”

 Ivan’s mouth dropped opened. “When we first met, you mentioned that. I know the others don’t know, but...Cal, I had cancer too. People _can_ get better. Especially one as strong with the light as Doctor Meyer,” he replied, shaking his head in confusion at why Cal seemed to say it with such finality.  

 It wasn’t something he could explain, but he’d have to show Ivan. Cal lead Ivan through the corridors of the living units in the compound, down halls and finally to Steve’s room, where he pushed the door open.

 As they entered the room, Ivan stared at the empty bed in confusion, that is, until he saw the man standing at the window, staring outside. He was frail, thin, bald, in a loose-fitting hospital gown. Ivan hung back, deferring to Cal to approach him.

 “Steve?” Cal said quietly, entering the room a little more, not wanting to startle the man. “You should be in bed. You should be resting…”

 Ivan eyes darted between Cal and Steve, remaining close behind him. On the bed lay several discarded medical devices, a blood pressure cuff and oxygen monitor, as well as a heart rate monitor.

 “You’re not supposed to be here,” Steve said with a shaky tone, but was far stronger than he looked the last time Cal was there. “The Light, Cal. The Light has shown me the Truth… it’s not…” Steve looked dazed, deranged even, looking past Cal and Ivan, as if hoping someone else was coming.

 “Truth about what?” Cal asked, stepping closer, and Steve neared, eyes on Cal, sorrowful.

 “I’ve been so wrong, Cal. You must forgive me.”

 Cal moved his hands to steady Steve as he got closer, gazing at him up close, worry etched across his expressive features. “For what? Steve?”

 “You are not the chosen one, Cal.”

 Hands falling away from Steve’s shoulders, the brunet swallowed thickly, hands pressed down over his thighs, rubbing slightly as lost all train of thought completely. “I…”

 Ivan moved to Cal’s side, understanding enough about the situation to know how shocking what Steve was saying sounded to his beloved, and to him as well. The priest wrapped a supportive hand around the young man’s muscular arm, his brow crinkling in a glare at Steve.

 “There has to be a mistake, Steve. The Light wouldn’t have told you this, I’m sure of it. You _know_ Cal. You know how pure and strong his heart is,” Ivan countered, not really caring in that moment who Steve was, but speaking his mind, was Ivan was wont to do. When his mind was set upon what he believed to be the truth, he never could be dissuaded from it.

“It’s never been said,” Steve explained, “I wanted Cal to be the one, so I could personally help him.”

 Cal shook his head, starting to feel himself disassociate, the lies, everything, he couldn’t handle much more of it. A promise was made, but Steve was on the brink of dying and he was changing his mind.

 “Wasn’t I _good_ enough?” Cal asked, jaw set as he stared at Steve.

 “My boy…” Steve reached a hand out for Cal, who recoiled away.

 “No, no.” Cal pushed away from them both and stormed out, an angry storm of confusion and betrayal thick in his wake.

 Ivan shot an angry look at Steve. “Why would you ruin things like this? That….that was just rude. And you’re wrong,” he fumed darkly, amber eyes narrowed sharp, before exiting out after Cal quickly.

 The Dane looked left and right down the stone path, trying to see where Cal had gone. He wandered down a narrow hall that led past a series of rooms similar to Steve’s. Down another corridor in a small room was where he found Cal seated, having not gone far, just sitting there with his knees pulled tight to his chest, trying to find his center, trying to _breathe_.

 Ivan strode swiftly to him, dropping to his knees, and wrapped an arm around Cal’s shoulder. “He’s wrong, Cal,” was all he could say, brows furrowed in concern and jaw clenched. He stroked up and down the young man’s back, thumbs digging deep into the striations of muscle.

 “Steve is never wrong,” Cal whispered roughly over a mound of stress and tears in his throat that threatened to spill over his reddened cheek bones. Cal had been in Steve’s charge for years; he didn’t understand how it could all be wrong now. “Maybe he thinks like Silas did… does. That I’m fraud…”

 “You….you are not a fraud, Cal, _you are not a fraud_ ,” Ivan whispered vehemently, his own tawny skin reddening with emotion as he grabbed Cal’s face in both hands roughly, turning him and forcing him to look in his eyes. “I...I don’t know why he’s saying this, but we’ll find out, together. Nothing can take away our faith, and we have to remember Steve is just a man, and man _can_ be wrong, he is _not_ infallible,” Ivan said, pulling Cal hard against his chest, into his arms.

 “Steve is _Steve_ ,” Cal whispered, brokenly. Shaking as his hands clutched to Ivan. His eyes met Ivan’s, reddened and swollen looking, sad. “He’s supposed to be dying of cancer. He’s not now! Didn’t you see him?”

 “Cal, he never finished telling us what he meant, he never said you are a fraud….perhaps there’s more, more we don’t know. We...we don’t have all the information here, not yet…” Ivan pressed his full lips to Cal’s cheeks, kissing at his tears. The look in his love’s eyes broke his heart; he could just feel the agony of rejection from this man who was obviously the only real father figure he’d ever had. “No matter what, I’m here with you, you have me, you’ll never lose me, and I love you, Cal,” he said, his voice a rough and urgent whisper.

 Reaching out, Cal wrapped his arms around Ivan and hugged him to his chest tightly. None of it helped, the words made his heart ache more, but in the end, at least he had Ivan, if he had nothing else.

 Ivan inhaled deeply, lifting Cal to his feet. “Let me get you back to the bungalow for now. Eat. We’ll work this out tomorrow, alright? Come on, Cal,” he said, guiding him gently to the door. In his emotional state, there was not much more than could be done, and Ivan didn’t know what to make of the older movement leader’s cryptic words. He’d come back and speak to him, perhaps tomorrow, maybe even alone.  

Cal nodded, letting Ivan lead him back, quiet and contemplative.

***

Eddie hopped off the back of the rickety old truck, slapping the fender twice and waving at the elderly Peruvian driver as he roared off, smoke billowing down the dusty road. He wiped his tired eyes and squinted, walking down the road towards the small village. He had to see again, had to know for sure if what he'd seen in his visions was real or not. He missed Sarah and the kids so much; Cal had offered him a second chance to come back, but the lingering doubts remained, and so here he was again, back in Cusco to see Steve...hoping he'd be awake this time, that he could speak to him.

***

It happened so fast....too fast, it was a blur, like a waking nightmare. Steve standing there before him, clad in his hospital gown, telling him he was the chosen one. Leading him through the warm night, through the hills to the edge of a precipice. A storm raged above them, and as Eddie screamed, he could no longer recognize his own voice as he watched Steve falling. He felt a shock course through his body, the echo of the last thing he said ripping through him before it all went black.

  _“ **THERE IS NO FUCKING LIGHT**!”_   

***

 As the lightning hit, Cal glanced back toward where he thought it touched down, blinking out the window of their bungalow, and then turned back to Ivan.  Something didn't feel right, but nothing was right.

 “How can I believe when everything I've thought I've known, especially about Steve, has been a lie?”

 Ivan tugged Cal nearer, hands warm across his back, up his neck. “There is still the Light, it’s within you, within me, it’s here with us now. He has a plan for us, we just don’t know it yet. This is real, you and I, here right now, Cal, what led us to find each other,” the priest said, cupping the younger man’s jaw and pulling him towards him, closer. He kissed him gently, trying to bring him some comfort. It tore him apart to see the man he loved so much so fraught with pain.

 Unable to help the way Ivan seemed to soothe him, Cal relaxed in his grips and sighed heavily. “I love you,” he whispered, holding tightly to Ivan, arms and legs wrapped up in each other.

 The older man stood a moment and walked to the bureau where a small electric kettle sat; he plugged it in and prepared two cups of tea, looking out the window as the storm raged outside their window. The air was heavy with an inexplicable energy that hung like a heavy blanket over them. Ivan measured some of the herbs one of the holy men had given them into two small strainers and once the water was ready, poured it and set them to steep. “You need to relax, _we_ need to. Here,” he said, handing a mug to Cal and sitting beside him at the foot of the bed. “I'll give you a massage once you drink some of this…”

 Cal took the cup and moved to sit on the bed, head hung in shame as he stared down into the cup. “I suppose. Okay.” He sipped the hot tea slowly.

 Ivan took a drink of the steamy, woodsy-tinged brew. “It's good. The man said it would open us to relaxation. Not like the...the other juice, more for, calming, I think,” he said, already feeling a nice warmth settle into his own limbs.

 Cal rested his head back against the wall and sighed, hands around the mug of tea. “It’s okay.”

 Ivan drank more before setting the cup down and moving behind the younger man to begin rubbing his shoulders. He paused and waited for Cal to finish his beverage, and when he was done, took it from him and began massaging in earnest. Strong hands kneaded the stiff muscles of the brunet’s upper back, still tightly knotted in spite of the herbal tonic. “Just breathe,” Ivan said, brushing his lips across the back of his neck in a soft kiss.

 Cal’s head swam as his body tried to relax, and then finally he reached up to stop Ivan’s hands at the kiss to his neck. He turned his head, shoulders first, twisted his hardened torso as he captured Ivan around the shoulders and kissed him hard.

 The priest wasn’t expecting it, but welcomed it desperately, not realizing how much he’d missed kissing the young man until that moment. He opened his mouth to him quickly, sliding his tongue against Cal’s with a soft moan as his hands moved down the young man’s firm body. His own head began to feel lighter as well, in a pleasant way, as though the stress of their experience was melting away.

 Shaking hands stilled as Cal touched Ivan’s waist, his hips, pulling him closer as he crawled into his lap, straddling the other man as they kissed feverishly. Cal needed grounding, needed something to hold him in place a little longer.

 “Cal,” Ivan whispered, thick fingers slipping between the buttons of his thin linen shirt, touching smooth, warm skin beneath. He shivered with anticipation as rough calloused thumbs skimmed over his chest beneath the fabric. He bit at Cal’s lips, sweeping his palms over the younger man’s ass and thighs.

 Cal needed Ivan’s touch like it was the life and air he breathed. He undid Ivan’s shirt, slowly, seeking out skin and hair under rough palms, familiar and still very new territory, but none of it mattered as built up need and lust spiked through him.

 Ivan quickly shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, peeling off Cal’s as well, letting the garments flutter to the floor as they kissed each other with burgeoning hunger. Everything with his handsome young lover was led by instinct, driven by what made them feel good, and as the priest curved his hand around the hard length tenting the front of Cal’s khaki’s, he felt his own cock fill rapidly, the ache already almost too much to bear.  

“Ivan-” Cal moaned, undoing his pants quickly to get them off, needing that skin to skin contact, to feel warmth and strength of physical nature as their mind, bodies, and souls connected.

 Ivan quickly shed his own trousers, kicking them to the floor along with his boxers, and climbed on the bed, pulling Cal with him and seeking his mouth again eagerly. His large hands roamed over the taut, lean muscles of his lover’s body, guiding Cal to lay over him on the small bed in their room.

 Managing to kiss Ivan lips in a hurried manner, Cal finally slowed as he crawled over the priest, calming his movements as he got reacquainted with their bodies like this, naked and slicked with sweat from the heat and impending passion. They were always hesitant to move farther than this, hands and fingers, stroking and pressing, biting and licking.

 The older man always felt like this when he was with Cal, hungry and desperate and urgent but tinged with uncertainty, wanting more but not knowing quite how or what it was they sought. Ivan palmed over Cal’s firm, round ass, pulling him up against his body, their leaking erections shifting and slipping against one another as he groaned in frustration at the friction, too much and not enough. “Oh God, Cal...Cal…” he whispered, licking up the side of his tanned neck, fastening plush lips along a throbbing vein and sucking hard.

 Ivan's voice saying his name brought Cal out of his mind, having faded to the back a moment, and he gazed down at the other man for a long moment, breathing hard. He touched his hand over Ivan's heart and kissed him again, slower this time, wanting to feel every last movement, take it to memory to replace others. “Ivan…”

 Ivan’s brown eyes were full of absolute love and adoration for Cal; it was like nothing else in the world mattered to him, and truly nothing did. He cupped his face in one hand, holding the hand he had laid on his chest with the other. “Tell me, Cal. You can tell me,” he whispered. There was so much in the young man’s beautiful, sad eyes. Pain, longing, desire, and Ivan wanted all of. He wanted Cal to pour it all out over him so he could share that burden with him and lighten it, give him strength through the sheer force of his love if it were possible.

 Cal’s brows furrowed and he shook his head slowly, now wasn’t the time to delve deeper into the issues presented to him with Steve. If Steve hurt him before, the man had done much worse this time around. Or maybe, perhaps, he’d always known and lead Cal astray, to keep…

 “No,” Cal said, quietly, “I don’t want to think right now.”

 The priest knew all too well what that was like too, and he pulled Cal down over him, rolling on top of him and pinning him down again. “Then don’t think. Feel,” he whispered, rolling his hips against Cal’s heatedly, muscles flexing.

 With a swallow, Cal pushed down the boiling hot rage that edged to the surface, just watching Ivan over him, letting every other memory that wanted to push forward sink back in as their bodies slid purposefully together. “Kiss me.”

 Ivan saw the fire in his eyes and answered it with exactly what he asked for. He descended over the younger man, not as graceful as he could’ve been, his tongue pushing insistently past Cal’s lips, into his mouth. He didn’t expect resistance of course, but his movements were once again almost awkward and juvenile, simply demonstrative of Ivan’s lack of experience, with men or women in this regard. All he knew was he ached for Cal, his painfully hard length dripping wet along the young man’s muscular thigh. That, and he wanted to take away Cal’s pain, the sadness in his eyes, the anger, whatever had made him hurt.

 Cal gasped and held Ivan closer, one arm around his shoulders to pull him tight against his chest, lapping up the taste of his mouth, losing himself to the heat and passion between them, however awkward, however stiff and unrefined, they always managed. He reached for Ivan’s cock and stroked it slowly, a pattern he knew well.

 The priest knew they found healing in each other, they always had. It was something that drew them to one another, recognizing the comfort, love, warmth, hope and ultimately light they saw in one another. Ivan groaned deep in his chest as Cal touched him, his hips chasing the feeling of pleasure, the slow ache. He, in turn, gripped Cal’s length, thumbing over the wet, thick head, tugging down on the hard flesh, watching the way the handsome young man’s face changed in response to his touch.

 Cal gasped, breaths ragged and heavy as he bit a kiss roughly against Ivan's jaw. “Ivan…” he whispered, trailing his lips to ear.

 Ivan kissed Cal deeper, then descended down, leaving a trail of damp bites across his skin. He longed to ask him what he wanted, but even Ivan himself didn’t know, so for now he could only do what his instincts led him to do.

 Down and down Ivan went, nearly worshipping Cal as he made his way over the younger man’s well-cared-for body, licking over every tanned inch, sucking salty sweet skin until he reached the seam of his thighs, where he buried his nose and simply inhaled a moment. The scent that was so cleanly, uniquely Cal had become imprinted in Ivan’s memory now that they’d been together a while, something that made his heart beat with excitement, but something familiar, beautiful and peaceful too.

 Sucking in a breath, Cal clutched at Ivan’s shoulders and then his hair, anything he could get his calloused hands on, filing his fingers into the locks as he gasped with anticipation, still never fully aware how far they would go, a pact between them to keep silent about the ghosts in their past, to keep going until the other looked ready to break. Cal was not there… yet.

 Ivan felt haunted by many of the same ghosts, though unspoken between them, things they still didn’t share with each other. So neither of them were ready for that yet, and that was fine; the priest enjoyed what they had for what it was in the moment. Ivan was never one to waste time questioning things, not before his miracle and certainly not after. Ivan situated his head between Cal’s legs, worshipfully rubbing his lips over Cal’s thighs, shyly moving over his balls and looking up at him as he did so, still  uncertain of himself, of what he was doing or if it was right.

 “That’s… good,” Cal said, encouragingly, watching as Ivan descended, not wanting him to stop now. “Please.”

 The priest watched as sweat formed across Cal’s tanned brow, focused on his eyes. Ivan’s broad palm contacted Cal’s warm flesh as he took him in his hand, wrapping him in a firm grip and tugging up on him slowly. The dark skin wrinkled as it gathered at the tip, and when he pulled down again, the smooth, satiny head released a clear, perfect bead of wetness. Not taking his eyes off Cal’s, Ivan’s tongue dipped out to lap at it, then swirl around the head. It nearly felt like his first time doing this with Cal, which wasn’t that long ago after all.

 Cal bit into his own lip, watching Ivan with huffed breaths as he anticipated the whole thing, never quite sure how far either one of them would go, or make it, before the other stopped them. This -- _this_ \-- was nice, it was perfectly paced, and sent Cal into a writhing frenzy where his toes curled and his body clenched up beautiful in reaction to every single touch swipe of tongue from Ivan.

 The more he tasted Cal, the more he fed from his body, the hungrier he became. Though he was unfamiliar and inexperienced, there was something primal in his ministrations, and he allowed his instincts to drive his mouth over Cal’s sensitive skin. Exhaling hot breath over him, his heart pounded in his chest, looking up into the younger man’s hooded blue eyes. “I...I love the way you taste….I think I could do this endlessly,” he said, his voice rough and deep, lips swollen, before he descended upon Cal and suckled him into the heat of his mouth more fully, watching him closely.

 “Ivan,” Cal whispered, tangling hands in his hair, tugging gently as their eyes met, and there was honestly nothing more primal than seeing the priest suck him down like that. “More,” he managed to bite out between pleasured gasps.

 Ivan’s heart pounded, and he stared up at Cal, leaning back on his heels for a moment before nosing behind his balls gingerly. Slowly, gently, he suckled one into his mouth, rolling it and moaning as he savored the salty taste. He released it and exhaled with a deep sigh, laving his tongue lower, and ventured over Cal’s hot pucker with a tentative, hesitant lap of his flat, widened tongue. He didn’t know if it would be alright or not, but he needed and wanted to taste him there.

 Thighs spreading, Cal watched Ivan, unsure what might happen, unsure what his boyfriend wanted. Unsure about everything. Still, he didn’t stop him, the feeling was spreading a lustful desire through him, building up something in his core, spreading down thigh the backs of his thighs slowly.

 The priest sensed the nervousness there, but only wanted to make him feel good. He took Cal’s opening though as a measure of trust, knowing how much there was between them. Lips pressed against him, he rubbed his hands over the younger man’s thighs soothingly, nothing rushed or demanding. He wrapped one hand over the base of Cal’s thick cock, rubbing and stroking him slowly, letting the ache build. “I won’t do anything you don’t want, Cal,” he whispered, before letting the tip of his tongue curl ever so slightly inside his hole.

 The new sensation sent Cal reeling, eyes shut tight as he let his body get used to the feeling, finding it wasn’t as bad as he dared think it might be. With Ivan at the helm, leading him, nothing felt as horrible as his mind once conjured. “K-keep going…”

 Ivan hummed, inhaling deeply, and continuing with tentative, delicate licks around the younger man’s warm entrance. It was wholly unfamiliar, yet seemed so satisfying, the feel of Cal melting beneath his touch. He gauged pressure and movement simply by attuning himself with Cal’s every breath, the smallest sound and flex of muscle, deepening contact where the younger man seemed to want more, backing off where he didn’t. He thumbed over the slit at the head of Cal’s cock, spreading clear fluid down his shaft and using it to slide his broad palm more easily over him. “Is this good?” He whispered in question, his full lips pushed almost in a French kiss over him, mouthing the words softly.

 “Very good,” Cal murmured, breathing heavily as his body set a fire with pleasure, wanting more and more, even if his mind was lagging to catch up. “Please-”

 The priest deepened his movements, daring to explore further, continuing to stroke Cal’s cock as he did. Tentatively, he pressed the damp pad of a finger against his entrance, pressing inside as he sucked kisses around the rim softly. It was exquisitely intimate, watching the young man through enraptured, lust-filled amber eyes.

 “Fuck- Ivan…” Cal managed one more time, shaking with need as his breath started to quiver, every piece of him lost in the moment. It was _so_ much better than he ever thought possible. Cal gazed down at Ivan, through thick, heavy lashes, irises bright with need, and dark with lust all at once. “It’s… good.”

 Ivan suckled his index finger once more and then pressed it inside gently, watching in enraptured fascination as the pink opening twitched and pushed against him before sucking him inside further. The priest kept his grip firm and steady on Cal’s cock but pressed in past the knuckle, curling just so ever so slowly and remaining still but for gentle circles with his fingertip. He looked up at Cal’s handsome face, the way his lips were parted as he gasped, and his own flesh leaked painfully hard between his legs in response. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

 Cal never let his gaze leave Ivan’s, watching him enjoy the intimacy they were finally exploring to a new extent, and Cal knew he wanted more, he _needed_ it. There was nothing else in the world or the next that would be better than coupling with Ivan. “So are you.”

 It was unbelievable, how tight and hot Cal’s body was just on his hands, and he gently maneuvered in and out as he felt the younger man relax into him. Ivan pushed up on his elbows and licked up the length of Cal’s cock, fastening his lips around the head as he moved his finger inside him. Plush lips slid wetly over the tip as he flicked his tongue over, finding more and more that he loved the taste of him, every single bit.

 Cal spread further, thighs tight as he canted his hips to take the long digit inside of his body, aching until it went past the first rung of muscle, and then Cal relaxed, breathing out slowly. “Ivan…” His skin sparked anew with lust and need, as he grasped at Ivan’s hair, unable to say anything more.

 The priest took his time, slipping in and out of Cal slowly and not adding another finger until he sensed the young man was ready for it. “Cal,” he began in a quiet voice, “We don’t need to do more than this. I want you to know, I’m just trying to make you feel good. I have no….I’ve never done this...I’m just...Just trying something. It doesn’t need to _be_ more,” he said, his voice deep and warm, assuring. He curled his fingers as he continued tugging on Cal’s leaking cock.

 All the repressed memories were surfacing, creating flashbacks to a time when control was something Cal had little of, when he was told things that weren’t true, at least not anymore. He wanted to wash over those memories with new one, with ones that were in his control, that were _his_ decision, _his_ choices. He reached and pulled Ivan forward, kissing him as he spread his legs and then wrapped them around the priests hips and kept him there. “I need…” he breathed out slowly, crystalline blue irises bright again flushed, lust ridden skin, “I need you. I want to feel every part of our union. I want to be one with you, to _flow_ with you.”

 Ivan looked deeply into Cal’s vivid azure eyes, the emotion flowing through him and washing over the priest in consuming waves. He was more than surprised at this reaction, at the inviting posture at his words, and the hunger they unlocked in him. The truth was, the priest had his own deeply intimate, repressed trauma that he had yet to face, and while he didn't recognize it yet, in this moment all he wanted to feel was the warm and love he only experienced with the handsome young man. “Oh, Cal,” Ivan whispered. He gripped his cock in one hand, rubbing it between the lube slicked, firm globes of Cal’s backside.

 Worked open already, Cal was more than pliant, canting his hips up to allow an easier slide, thighs spreading wider as needed to bring Ivan in closer, easing him into his hellishly hot body. He shook, limbs weak is lust but he didn’t let that stop them. “Easy…”

Almost like he was meant to be there, Ivan slid inside, the tight resistance of muscle gripping every thick inch of his flesh like a vice. Completely in tune with Cal’s every breath, the older man moved slowly, his hips like liquid, sucking kisses up the side of his sweat-covered neck. He panted, trembling with desire, hands moving around to press into Cal’s abdomen and hold him steady. “As slow as needed, elskede,” he responded, his voice a ragged whisper.

 Turning his head to meet Ivan’s breaths and lips, Cal kissed him with fervor, arms around his shoulders, legs around his hips, keeping them connected at every level possible. He gasped, biting at Ivan’s mouth as his swollen cock slipped in to the hilt, igniting every nerve at once. “Ivan-”

 Encouraged by the younger man’s movements, Ivan began to roll his hips more, grunting low in his throat as he fed from Cal’s mouth with a slowly increasing hunger. Holding himself above him on muscled forearms, Ivan returned the feral bites and sucked at his bottom lip harder, tugging the plump red flesh between sharp teeth.

 Cal reached between them to stroke himself in time with the long, pistoning whips of Ivan’s hips, thumbing over the leaking tip as he smeared around his precome. The heat that had been growing before was ever present and coiling deep in Cal’s core, breath ragged with impending release.

 Ivan moaned, moving his hand up over his chest to squeeze his firm pectoral and pinch his nipple between rough fingertips. He scraped his teeth over Cal’s carotid artery as he rocked into him faster. “Cal...you feel so good...I didn’t know it was like this…” he whispered.   

 Eyes rolled back into his skull, Cal’s head lolled back on his neck as he swallowed heavily, working himself up to a building heat that just didn’t seem to want to burst, not that he wanted it done so soon anyway. Ivan felt amazing, better than he thought after _everything_. “Harder-”

 The priest pulled Cal’s legs up, pressing thick forearms into the backs of his thighs and shifting slim hips against tanned ones. Looking down, Ivan rolled each inch of his heavy cock into Cal’s slick, puckered entrance. He lifted his gaze to Cal’s and leaned down where he’d been before, close to him, sharing the same breath, and kissed him ravenously as he began pumping faster in and out.

 Cal’s body started to tense, squeezing pleasantly around Ivan’s thick erection, barely able to breathe right let alone kiss him properly, nothing but messy slides of tongue and teeth. The movement protector fell apart with that, every aching bone in his body lithe as he came, panting and writhing under Ivan.

 Feeding desperately from Cal’s mouth, Ivan took every moan that tore from his throat, feeling each sound to the core of his body. He bore down and finally allowed himself to release as well, the blinding, white hot shot of ecstasy pulsing through his shaft. “Cal...oh Cal…” he gasped with each harsh snap of his hips. He leaned on one arm to Cal’s side, tongue exploring his mouth as he fought to regain his breath.

 Blissfully shaken to his core with pleasure, Cal returned each kiss languidly. Relaxed and sweating, he reached to hold Ivan’s face with his hands, their breaths slowly together. “I love you.”

 Ivan looked deeply into Cal’s soulful eyes, feeling the pull on his heart from the words. He kissed the younger man as his heart thudded against his ribs. “And I love you, too, Cal.” He pulled the young man against him and held him close, their breathing in sync with each other.

 For now, Cal’s estranged behavior with Steve was forgotten, he could worry about all of that later. He wrapped every limb around Ivan and held him, wound together. “Whatever happens, we have to promise to stay together.”

 The priest held Cal tightly in his arms. “No matter what, Cal, I swear to you, I am with you. I will remain by your side and with you through anything...nothing will take me from you. I love you with all my being,” Ivan said, looking into the younger man’s eyes with intensity. Every word he said was punctuated with passion; this was a man of profound conviction who did not make such promises lightly. Ivan was bound to Cal; this physical consummation of their love only made it that much deeper to him.


End file.
